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diff --git a/28906.txt b/28906.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8666b50 --- /dev/null +++ b/28906.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13814 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tale of Timber Town, by Alfred Grace + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Tale of Timber Town + +Author: Alfred Grace + +Release Date: May 21, 2009 [EBook #28906] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF TIMBER TOWN *** + + + + +Produced by Nick Wall, Anne Storer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + THE TALE OF TIMBER TOWN. + + + + + THE TALE + OF TIMBER TOWN + + BY + A. A. GRACE + (_Author of "Tales of a Dying Race," + "Maoriland Stories," "Folk-Tales of the Maori," + "Hone Tiki Dialogues," &c._) + + + GORDON & GOTCH + Melbourne, Sydney, Brisbane, Perth, Launceston, Wellington, + Auckland, Christchurch, Dunedin, N.Z. + + 1914 + + + + + CONTENTS. + + + PAGE + PROEM 9 + CHAPTER + I. The Master-Goldsmith 11 + II. The Wreck of The Mersey Witch 15 + III. The Pilot's Daughter 18 + IV. Rachel Varnhagen 24 + V. Bill the Prospector 30 + VI. The Father of Timber Town 33 + VII. Cut-Throat Euchre 35 + VIII. The Yellow Flag 43 + IX. What looked like Courting 48 + X. Hocussed 51 + XI. The Temptation of the Devil 57 + XII. Rock Cod and Macaroni 62 + XIII. What the Bush Robin Saw 65 + XIV. The Robbery of the Mails 68 + XV. Dealing Mostly with Money 73 + XVI. The Wages of Sin 77 + XVII. Rachel's Wiles 81 + XVIII. Digging 83 + XIX. A Den of Thieves 86 + XX. Gold and Roses 91 + XXI. The Foundation of the Gold League 96 + XXII. Women's Ways 101 + XXIII. Forewarned, Forearmed 108 + XXIV. The Goldsmith Comes to Town 112 + XXV. Fishing 119 + XXVI. A Small, but Important Link in the Story 124 + XXVII. The Signal-Tree 127 + XXVIII. The Goldsmith Comes to Town the Second Time 130 + XXIX. Amiria Plays her Highest Card in the Game of Love 134 + XXX. In Tresco's Cave 139 + XXXI. The Perturbations of the Bank Manager 145 + XXXII. The Quietude of Timber Town is Disturbed 147 + XXXIII. The Gold League Washes Up 150 + XXXIV. The Goldsmith Comes to Town the Third Time 153 + XXXV. Bail 156 + XXXVI. In Durance Vile 160 + XXXVII. Benjamin's Redemption 164 +XXXVIII. The Way to Manage the Law 173 + XXXIX. Tresco Makes the Ring 178 + EPILOGUE 183 + + + + +AUTHOR'S NOTE. + + +Carlyle Smythe, in his interesting reminiscences of Mark Twain, +printed in _Life_, says that, of all the stories which interested +the great American writer while travelling with him through Australasia, +the tragical story which is the basis of "The Tale of Timber Town" +fascinated the celebrated author more than any other. The version which +Mark Twain read was the re-print of the verbatim report of the most +remarkable trial ever held in New Zealand, and perhaps south of the +Line, and there is no cause for wonder in his interest. I, too, have +studied and re-studied that narrative, with its absorbing psychological +and sociological problems; I have interrogated persons who knew the +chief characters in the story; I have studied the locality, and know +intimately the scene of the tragedy: and even though "The Tale of Timber +Town" has in the writing taxed my energies for many a month, I have by +no means exhausted the theme which so enthralled Mark Twain. + +I have tried to reproduce the characters and atmosphere of those +stirring days, when L1,000,000 worth of gold was brought into Timber +Town in nine months; and I have sought to reproduce the characters and +atmosphere of Timber Town, rather than to resuscitate the harrowing +details of a dreadful crime. I have tried to show how it was possible +for such a tragedy to take place, as was that which so absorbed Mark +Twain, and why it was that the tale stirred in him an interest which +somewhat surprised Carlyle Smythe. + +Here in Timber Town I met them--the unassuming celebrity, and the young +_entrepreneur_. The great humorist, alack! will never read the tale as I +have told it, but I am hopeful, that in "The Tale of Timber Town," his +erstwhile companion and the public will perceive the literary value of +the theme which arrested the attention of so great a writer as Mark +Twain. + +"The Tale of Timber Town" first appeared in the pages of _The Otago +Witness_, whose proprietors I desire to thank for introducing the story +to the public, and for the courtesy of permitting me to reserve the +right of reproduction of the work in book-form. + + _Timber Town._ A.A.G. + + + + +PROEM. + + +Timber Town lay like a toy city at the bottom of a basin. Its +wooden houses, each placed neatly in the middle of a little +garden-plot, had been painted brightly for the delight of the +children. There were whole streets of wooden shops, with verandahs +in front of them to shade the real imported goods in their windows; +and three wooden churches, freshly painted to suit the tastes of their +respective--and respectable--congregations; there was a wooden Town Hall, +painted grey; a wooden Post Office, painted brown; a red college, where +boys in white disported upon a green field; a fawn-coloured school, +with a playground full of pinafored little girls; and a Red Tape +Office--designed in true Elizabethan style, with cupolas, vanes, +fantastic chimney-tops, embayed windows, wondrous parapets--built +entirely of wood and painted the colour of Devonshire cream, with +grit in the paint to make it look like stone. + +Along the streets ran a toy tram, pulled by a single horse, which was +driven by a man who moved his arms just as if they were real, and who +puffed genuine clouds of smoke from his tobacco-pipe. Ladies dressed +in bright colours walked up and down the trim side-paths, with gaudy +sunshades in their hands; knocked at doors, went calling, and looked +into the shop windows, just like actual people. + +It was the game of playing at living. The sky shone brightly overhead; +around the town stood hills which no romantic scene-painter could have +bettered; the air of the man with water-cart, of the auctioneer's man +with bell, and of the people popping in and out of the shops, was the +air of those who did these things for love of play-acting on a stage. + +As a matter of fact, there was nothing to worry about, in Timber Town; +no ragged beggars, no yelling hawkers, no sad-eyed, care-worn people, no +thought for to-morrow. The chimneys smoked for breakfast regularly at +eight o'clock every morning; the play of living began at nine, when the +smiling folk met in the streets and turned, the men into their offices +to play at business, the women into the shops where meat and good things +to eat were to be had for little more than love. Between twelve and two +o'clock everybody went home to dinner, and the cabs which stood in front +of the wooden Post Office, and dogs which slept on the pavement beneath +the verandahs, held possession of the streets. + +But if anyone would see the beauty and fashion of Timber Town, from four +to five in the afternoon was the hour. Then wives and daughters, having +finished playing at house-keeping for the day, put on their gayest +costumes, and visited the milliners. Southern Cross Street buzzed with +gaudy life; pretty women bowed, and polite men raised their hats--just +as people do in real cities--but, as everybody knew everybody else, the +bowing and hat-raising were general, just as they are when the leading +lady comes into the presence of the chorus on the stage. Then the vision +of gossiping, smiling humanity would pass away--the shops put up their +shutters at six o'clock; the game was over for the day, and all the +chimneys smoked for tea. + +Timber Town by night, except when the full moon shone, was sombre, with +nothing doing. The street lamps burnt but indifferent gas; people stayed +indoors, and read the piquant paragraphs of _The Pioneer Bushman_, +Timber Town's evening journal, or fashioned those gay dresses which by +day helped to make the town so bright, and went to bed early and slept +with a soundness and tranquillity, well-earned by the labour of playing +so quaintly at the game of life. + +The hills which surrounded the little town pressed so closely upon it, +that by sheer weight they seemed likely to crush its frail houses into +matchwood. On one side mountains, some bare and rugged, some clothed +with forest, rose behind the foot-hills, and behind them more mountains, +which seemed to rise like the great green billows of an angry sea. On +one side stretched the blue of the distant forest-covered ranges, upon +the other the azure of the encroaching ocean, which, finding a way +between the encircling hills, insinuated its creeping tides into the +town itself. And overhead spread the blue sky, for the sky above Timber +Town was blue nine days out of ten, and the clouds, when they came, +performed their gloomy mission quickly and dispersed with despatch, that +the sun might smile again and the playing of the people continue. + +No nest in the forest was ever more securely hid than was Timber Town +from the outside world. Secreted at the end of a deep bay, that bay was +itself screened from the ocean outside by an extensive island and a +sandspit which stretched for many a mile. + +Inaccessible by land, the little town was reached only by water, and +there, in that quiet eddy of the great ocean, lived its quiet, quaint, +unique existence. + +In such a place men's characters develop along their own lines, and, +lacking that process of mental trituration which goes on in large cities +where many minds meet, they frequently attain an interesting if strange +maturity. In such a community there is opportunity for the contemplation +of mankind ignorant of poverty; and such a happy state, begotten of +plenty and nurtured by freedom, has its natural expression in the +demeanour of the people. It was not characteristic of Timber Town to +hoard, but rather to spend. In a climate bright through the whole year, +it was not natural that the sorrows of life, where life was one long +game, should press heavily upon the players. + +But we come upon the little timber town at a time of transition from +sequestered peace to the roar and rush of a mining boom, and if the +stirring events of that time seem to change the tranquil aspect of the +scene, it is only that a breeze of life from outside sweeps over its +surface, as when a gust of wind, rushing from high mountains upon some +quiet lake nestling at their feet, stirs the placid waters into foam. + +So through the wild scene, when the villain comes upon the stage and the +hidden treasure is brought to light, though the play may seem to lose +its pastoral character, it is to be remembered that if tragedy may +endure for the night, comedy comes surely enough in the morning. + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE TALE OF TIMBER TOWN. + +CHAPTER I. + +The Master-Goldsmith. + + +Jake Ruggles leant over the goldsmith's bench, put the end of his +blow-pipe into the gas-flame, and impinged a little oxygenized jet +upon the silver buckle he was soldering. He was a thin, undersized, +rabbit-faced youth, whose head was thatched with a shock of coarse black +hair. He possessed a pair of spreading black eyebrows upon a forehead +which was white when well washed, for Nature had done honestly by the +top of his head, but had realised, when his chin was reached, the +fatuity of spending more time upon the moulding and adornment of the +person of Jake Ruggles. + +The master-goldsmith was a rubicund man, with a face which Jake, in a +rage, had once described as that of "a pig with the measles." But this +was, without doubt, a gross perversion of the truth. Benjamin Tresco's +countenance was as benign as that of Bacchus, and as open as the day. +Its chief peculiarity was that the brow and lashes of one eye were +white, while piebald patches adorned his otherwise red head. + +In his own eyes, the most important person in Timber Town was Benjamin +Tresco. But it was natural for him to think so, for he was the only man +of his trade in a town of six thousand people. He was a portly person +who took a broad view of life, and it was his habit to remark, when folk +commented on his rotundity, "I _am_ big. I don't deny it. But I can't +help myself--God A'mighty made me big, big in body, big in brain, big +in appetite, big in desire to break every established law and accepted +custom; but I am prevented from giving rein to my impulses by the +expansiveness of my soul. That I developed myself. I could go up +the street and rob the Kangaroo Bank; I could go to Mr. Crewe, the +millionaire, and compel him at the pistol's mouth to transfer me the +hoards of his life-time; I could get blazing drunk three nights a week; +I could kidnap Varnhagen's pretty daughter, and carry her off to the +mountains; but my soul prevents me--I am the battle-ground of contending +passions. One half of me says, 'Benjamin, do these things'; the +other half says, 'Tresco, abstain. Be magnanimous: spare them!' My +appetites--and they are enormous--say, 'Benjamin Tresco, have a real +good time while you can; sail in, an' catch a-holt of pleasure with +both hands.' But my better part says, 'Take your pleasure in mutual +enjoyments, Benjamin; fix your mind on book-learning and the elevating +Arts of peace.' I am a bone of contention between Virtue and License, +an' the Devil only knows which will get me in the end." + +But at the time of introduction he was quietly engraving a little plate +of gold, which was destined to adorn the watch-chain of the Mayor, who, +after Mr. Crewe, was Timber Town's most opulent citizen. + +When the craftsman engraves, he fastens his plate of gold to the end of +a piece of wood, long enough to be held conveniently in the hand, and as +thick as the width of the precious metal. This he holds in his left +hand, and in his right the graver with which he nicks out little pieces +of gold according to design, which pieces fall into the apron of the +bench--and, behold! he is engraving. The work needs contemplation, +concentration, and attention; for every good goldsmith carries the +details of the design in his head. But, that morning, there seemed to be +none of these qualities in Benjamin Tresco. He dropped his work with a +suddenness that endangered its fastenings of pitch, rapped the bench +with the round butt of his graver, and glared ferociously at Jake +Ruggles. + +"What ha' you got there?" he asked fiercely of his apprentice, who sat +with him at the bench and was now working industriously with a blow-pipe +upon the hoop of a gold ring. "Who told you to stop soldering the +buckles?" + +Jake turned his head sideways and looked at his master, like a ferret +examining an angry terrier; alert, deliberate, and full of resource. + +"It's a bit of a ring I was give to mend," he replied, "up at The Lucky +Digger." + +Tresco stretched out a long arm, and took the gem. Then he drew a deep +breath. + +"You've begun early, young man," he exclaimed. "Would you poach on my +preserves? The young lady whose finger that ring adorns I am wont to +regard as my especial property, an' a half-fledged young _pukeko_, like +you, presumes to cut me out! _You_ mend that lady's trinkets? _You_ lean +over a bar, an' court beauty adorned in the latest fashion? _You_ make +love to my 'piece' by fixing up her jewels? Young man, you've begun too +early. Now, look-a-here, I shall do this job myself--for love--I shall +deliver this ring with my own hand." Tresco chuckled softly, and Jake +laughed out loud. + +The scene had been a piece of play-acting. The apprentice, who knew his +master's weakness for the pretty bar-maid at The Lucky Digger was, as +he expressed himself, "taking a rise out of the boss," and Tresco's +simulated wrath was the crisis for which he had schemed. Between the two +there existed a queer comradeship, which had been growing for more than +two years, so that the bald, rotund, red-faced goldsmith had come to +regard the shock-headed, rat-faced apprentice more as a son than as an +assistant; whilst Jake would say to the youth of his "push," "Huh! none +o' yer bashin' an' knockin' about fer me--the boss an' me's chums. Huh! +you should be in _my_ boots--we have our pint between us reg'lar at +eleven, just like pals." + +Picking up the ring with a pair of tweezers, the master-jeweller first +examined its stone--a diamond--through a powerful lens. Next, with a +small feather he took up some little bits of chopped gold from where +they lay mixed with borax and water upon a piece of slate; these he +placed deftly where the gold hoop was weak; over the top of them he laid +a delicate slip of gold, and bound the whole together with wire as thin +as thread. This done, he put the jewel upon a piece of charred wood, +thrust the end of his blow-pipe into the flame of the gas-burner, which +he pulled towards him, and with three or four gentle puffs through the +pipe the mend was made. The goldsmith threw the ring in the "pickle," a +green, deadly-looking chemical in an earthenware pot upon the floor. + +Tresco was what the doctors call "a man of full habit." He ate largely, +drank deeply, slept heavily, but, alas! he was a bachelor. There was no +comfortable woman in the room at the back of his workshop to call in +sweet falsetto, "Benjamin, come to dinner! Come at once: the steak's +getting cold!" As he used to say, "This my domicile lacks the female +touch--there's too much tobacco-ashes an' cobwebs about it: the women +seem kind o' scared to come near, as if I might turn out to be a dog +that bites." + +The ring being pickled, Benjamin fished it out of the green liquid and +washed it in a bowl of clean water. A little filing and scraping, a +little rubbing with emery-paper, and the goldsmith burnished the yellow +circlet till it shone bright and new. + +"Who knows?" he exclaimed, holding up the glistening gem, "who knows but +it is the ring of the future Mrs. T.? Lord love her, I have forty-eight +pairs of socks full of holes, all washed and put away, waiting for +her to darn. Think of the domestic comfort of nearly fifty pairs of +newly-darned socks; with her sitting, stitching, on one side of the +fire, and saying, 'Benjamin, these ready-made socks are no good: _I_ +must knit them for you in future,' and me, on the other side, smiling +like a Cheshire cat with pure delight, and saying: 'Annie, my dear, +you're an angel compacted of comfort and kindness: my love, would you +pass me a paper-light, _if_ you please?' But in the meantime the bird +must be caught. I go to catch it." + +He slipped his dirty apron over his head, put on his coat and +weather-beaten hat of strange outlandish shape, placed the ring in a +dainty, silk-lined case, and sallied forth into the street. + +Timber Town burst on his benignant gaze. Over against him stood a great +wooden shop, painted brilliant blue; along the street was another, of +bright red; but most of the buildings were a sober stone-colour or some +shade of modest grey or brown. One side of the street was verandah'd +along its whole length, and the walks on either side of the macadamised +road were asphalted. Benjamin, wearing the air of Bacchus courting the +morning, walked a hundred yards or so, till he came to the centre of the +town, where four streets met. At one corner stood the Kangaroo Bank; at +another a big clothing-shop; at the two others Timber Town's rival +hostelries--The Bushman's Tavern and The Lucky Digger. The Bank and +hotels, conspicuous amid the other buildings, had no verandahs in front +of them, but each was freshly painted; the Bushman's Tavern a +slate-blue, The Lucky Digger a duck-egg green. + +The sun was hot; the iron on the roofs ticked in the heat and reflected +the rays of heaven. Benjamin paused on the edge of the pavement, mopped +his perspiring brow, and contemplated the garish scene. Opposite the +wooden Post Office, which flanked the "clothing emporium," stretched a +rank of the most outlandish vehicles that ever came within the category +of cabs licensed to carry passengers. Some were barouches which must +have been ancient when Victoria was crowned, and concerning which there +was a legend that they came out to the settlement in the first ships, in +1842; others were landaus, constructed on lines substantial enough to +resist collision with an armoured train; but the majority were built on +a strange American plan, with a canopy of dingy leather and a step +behind, so that the fare, after progressing sideways like a crab, +descended, at his journey's end, as does a burglar from "Black Maria." + +Along the footpaths walked, in a leisurely manner, a goodly sprinkling +of Timber Town's citizens, with never a ragged figure among them. + +Perhaps the seediest-looking citizen "on the block" was Tresco himself, +but what he lacked in tailoring he made good in serene benignity of +countenance. His features, which beamed like the sun shining above him, +were recognised by all who passed by. It was, "How do, Benjamin; bobbin' +up, old party?" "Mornin', Tresco. You remind me of the rooster that +found the jewel--you look so bloomin' contented with yourself." "Ah! +good day, Mr. Tresco. I hope I see you well. Remember, I still have that +nice little bit of property for sale. Take you to see it any time you +like." + +With Benjamin it was, "How do, Ginger? In a hurry? Go it--you'll race +the hands round the clock yet." "Good morning, Mr. Flint. Lovely +weather, yes, but hot. Now, half-a-pint is refreshing, but you lawyers +have no time--too many mortgages, conveyances, bills of sale to think +about. I understand. Good morning." "Why, certainly, Boscoe, my beloved +pal. Did you say 'half'?--I care not if it's a pint. Let us to the +blushing Hebe of the bar." + +Tresco and his friend, Boscoe, entered the portals of The Lucky Digger. +Behind the bar stood a majestic figure arrayed in purple and fine linen. +She had the development of an Amazon and the fresh face of a girl from +the shires of England. Through the down on her cheek "red as a rose was +she." + +Tresco advanced as to the shrine of a goddess, and leant deferentially +over the bar. Never a word spoke he till the resplendent deity had +finished speaking to two commercial travellers who smoked cigars, and +then, as her eyes met his, he said simply, "Two pints, if you please, +miss." + +The liquor fell frothing into two tankards; Boscoe put down the money, +and the goddess withdrew to the society of the bagmen, who talked to her +confidentially, as to their own familiar friend. + +Tresco eyed the group, smilingly, and said, "The toffs are in the +cheese, Boscoe. You'd think they'd a monopoly of Gentle Annie. But wait +till I get on the job." + +Boscoe, a wizened little tinsmith, with the grime of his trade upon him, +looked vacuously to his front, and buried his nose in his pot of beer. + +"Flash wimmen an't in my line," said he, as he smacked his lips, "not +but this yer an't a fine 'piece.' But she'd cost a gold mine in clo'es +alone, let alone brooches and fallals. I couldn't never run it." Here +one of the gaudy bagmen stretched out his hand, and fingered the +bar-maid's rings. The girl seemed nothing annoyed at this awkward +attention, but when her admirer's fingers stole to her creamy chin, she +stepped back, drew herself up with infinite dignity, and said with +perfect enunciation, "Well, you _have_ got an impudence. I must go and +wash my face." + +She was about to leave the bar, when Tresco called after her, "My dear, +one minute." From his pocket he drew the dainty ring-case, and held it +out to the girl, who took it eagerly. In a moment the gem was on her +finger. "You dear old bag of tricks!" she exclaimed. "Is it for me?" + +"Most certainly," said Benjamin. "One moment." He took the ring between +his forefinger and thumb, as if he were a conjurer about to perform, +glanced triumphantly round the bar-room, held the girl's hand gallantly +in his, deliberately replaced the ring on her finger, and said, "With +this ring I thee wed; with my body I thee worship; with all my worldly +goods I thee endow." + +"Thanks, I'll take the ring," retorted the bar-maid, with mock annoyance +and a toss of her head, "but, really, I can't be bothered with your old +carcase." + +"Pleasing delusion," said Tresco, unruffled. "It's your own ring!" + +A close, quick scrutiny, and the girl had recognised her refurbished +jewel. + +"You bald-headed rogue!" she exclaimed. But Tresco had vanished, and +nothing but his laugh came back through the swinging glass-door. + +The bagmen laughed too. But Gentle Annie regarded them indignantly, and +in scornful silence, which she broke to say, "And _now_ I shall go and +wash my face." + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +The Wreck of the Mersey Witch. + + +The Maori is a brown man. His hair is straight, coarse, black, and +bright as jet. His eyes are brown, his teeth are pearly white; and, when +he smiles, those brown eyes sparkle and those white teeth gleam. A +Maori's smile is one of Nature's most complete creations. + +But as Enoko poked his head out of the door of the hut, his face did not +display merriment. Day was breaking; yet he could see nothing but the +flying scud and the dim outline of the shore; he could hear nothing but +the roar of the breakers, battering the boulders of the beach. + +He came out of the hut, his teeth chattering with the rawness of the +morning; and made a general survey of the scene. + +"It's too cold," he muttered in his own language. "There's too much +wind, too much sea." + +With another look at the angry breakers, he went back into the hut. +"Tahuna," he cried, "there's no fishing to-day--the weather's bad." + +Tahuna stirred under his blankets, sat up, and said in Maori, "I'll come +and look for myself." + +The two men went out into the cold morning air. + +"No," said Tahuna, "it's no good--there's a north-east gale. We had +better go back to the _pa_ when the day has well dawned." + +The words were hardly out of his mouth, when a sudden veering of the +wind drew the scud from the sea and confined it to the crest of the +rocky, wooded cliff under which the Maoris stood. The sea lay exposed, +grey and foaming; but it was not on the sea that the men's eyes were +riveted. There, in the roaring, rushing tide, a ship lay helpless on the +rocks. + +Enoko peered, as though he mistrusted the sight of his eye--he had but +one. Tahuna ran to the hut, and called, "Come out, both of you. There's +a ship on the rocks!" + +From the hut issued two sleepy female forms, the one that of the chief's +wife, the other that of a pretty girl. The former was a typical Maori +_wahine_ of the better class, with regular features and an abundance of +long black hair; the latter was not more than eighteen years old, of a +lighter complexion, full-figured, and with a good-natured face which +expressed grief and anxiety in every feature. "Oh!" she exclaimed, as a +great wave broke over the helpless ship, "the sailors will be drowned. +What can we do?" + +"Amiria," said the chief to her, "go back to the _pa_, and tell the +people to come and help. We three,"--he pointed to his wife, Enoko and +himself--"will see what we can do." + +"No," replied the girl, "I can swim as well as any of you. I shall stay, +and help." She ran along the beach to the point nearest the wreck, and +the others followed her. + +Tahuna, standing in the wash of the sea, cried out, "A rope! A rope! A +rope!" But his voice did not penetrate ten yards into the face of the +gale. + +Then all four, drenched with spray, shouted together, and with a similar +result. + +"If they could float a rope ashore," said the chief, "we would make it +fast, and so save them." + +The vessel lay outside a big reef which stretched between her and the +shore; her hull was almost hidden by the surf which broke over her, +the only dry place on her being the fore-top, which was crowded with +sailors; and it was evident that she must soon break up under the +battering seas which swept over her continually. + +"They can't swim," said the chief, with a gesture of disgust. "The +_pakeha_ is a sheep, in the water. _We_ must go to _them_. Now, +remember: when you get near the ship, call out for a rope. We can +drift back easily enough." + +He walked seawards till the surf was up to his knees. The others +followed his example; the girl standing with the other woman between +the men. + +"Now," cried Tahuna, as a great breaker retired; and the four Maoris +rushed forward, and plunged into the surf. But the force of the next +wave dashed them back upon the beach. Three times they tried to strike +out from the shore, but each time they were washed back. Tahuna's face +was bleeding, Enoko limped as he rose to make the fourth attempt, but +the women had so far escaped unscathed. + +"When the wave goes out," cried the chief, "rush forward, and grasp the +rocks at the bottom. Then when the big wave passes, swim a few strokes, +dive when the next comes, and take hold of the rocks again." + +"That's a good plan," said Enoko. "Let us try it." + +A great sea broke on the shore; they all rushed forward, and disappeared +as the next wave came. Almost immediately their black heads were +bobbing on the water. There came another great breaker, the four heads +disappeared; the wave swept over the spot where they had dived, but bore +no struggling brown bodies with it. Then again, but further out to sea, +the black heads appeared, to sink again before the next great wave. +Strong in nerve, powerful in limb were those amphibious Maoris, +accustomed to the water from the year of their birth. + +They were now fifty yards from the shore, and swam independently of one +another; diving but seldom, and bravely breasting the waves. + +The perishing sailors, who eagerly watched the swimmers, raised a shout, +which gave the Maoris new courage. + +Between the Natives and the ship stretched a white line of foam, +hissing, roaring, boiling over a black reef which it was impossible to +cross. The tired swimmers, therefore, had to make a painful detour. +Slowly Tahuna and Enoko, who were in front, directed their course +towards a channel at one end of the reef, and the women followed in +their wake. They were swimming on their sides, but all their strength +and skill seemed of little avail in bringing them any nearer to their +goal. But suddenly Amiria dived beneath the great billows, and when her +tangled, wet mane reappeared, she was in front of the men. They and the +chief's wife followed her example, and soon all four swimmers had passed +through the channel. Outside another reef lay parallel to the first, and +on it lay the stranded ship, fixed and fast, with the green seas +pounding her to pieces. + +When the Maoris were some fifty yards from the wreck, they spread +themselves out in a line parallel to the reef on which lay the ship, her +copper plates exposed half-way to the keel. "Rope! Rope! Rope!" shouted +the Maoris. Their voices barely reached the ship, but the sailors well +knew for what the swimmers risked their lives. Already a man had unrove +the fore-signal-halyards, the sailors raised a shout and the coiled rope +was thrown. It fell midway between Tahuna and Enoko, where Amiria was +swimming. Quickly the brave girl grasped the life-line, and it was not +long before her companions were beside her. + +They now swam towards the channel. Once in the middle of that, they +turned on their backs and floated, each holding tight to the rope, and +the waves bearing them towards the shore. + +The return passage took only a few minutes, but to get through the +breakers which whitened the beach with foam was a matter of life or +death to the swimmers. They were grasped by the great seas and were +hurled upon the grinding boulders; they were sucked back by the receding +tide, to be again thrown upon the shore. + +Tahuna was the first to scramble out of the surf, though he limped as he +walked above high-water-mark. Amiria lay exhausted on the very margin, +the shallow surge sweeping over her; but the rope was still in her hand. +The chief first carried the girl up the beach, and laid her, panting, on +the stones; then he went back to look for the others. His wife, with +wonderful fortune, was carried uninjured to his very feet, but Enoko was +struggling in the back-wash which was drawing him into a great oncoming +sea. Forgetting his maimed foot, the chief sprang towards his friend, +seized hold of him and a boulder simultaneously, and let the coming wave +pass over him and break upon the beach. Just as it retired, he picked up +Enoko, and staggered ashore with his helpless burden. + +For five minutes they all lay, panting and still. Then Amiria got up and +hauled on the life-line. Behind her a strange piece of rock, shaped like +a roughly-squared pillar, stood upright from the beach. To this she made +fast the line, on which she pulled hard and strong. Tahuna rose, and +helped her, and soon out of the surf there came a two-inch rope which +had been tied to the signal-halyards. + +When the chief and the girl had fixed the thicker rope round the rock, +Tahuna tied the end of the life-line about his waist, walked to the edge +of the sea, and held up his hand. + +That was a signal for the first man to leave the ship. He would have to +come hand-over-hand along the rope, through the waters that boiled over +the deadly rocks, and through the thundering seas that beat the shore. +And hand-over-hand he came, past the reef on which the ship lay, across +the wild stretch of deep water, over the second and more perilous reef, +and into the middle of the breakers of the beach. There he lost his +hold, but Tahuna dashed into the surf, and seized him. The chief could +now give no attention to his own safety, but his wife and Amiria hauled +on the life-line, and prevented him and his burden from being carried +seawards by the back-wash. And so the first man was saved from the wreck +of _The Mersey Witch_. + +Others soon followed; Tahuna became exhausted; his wife took his place, +and tied the life-line round her waist. After she had rescued four men, +Enoko came to himself and relieved her; and Amiria, not to be outdone in +daring, tied the other end of the line about her waist, and took her +stand beside the half-blind man. + +As the captain, who was the last man to leave the ship, was dragged +out of the raging sea, a troop of Maoris arrived from the _pa_ with +blankets, food, and drink. Soon the newcomers had lighted a fire in a +sheltered niche of the cliff, and round the cheerful blaze they placed +the chilled and exhausted sailors. + +The captain, when he could speak, said to Tahuna, "Weren't you one of +those who swam out to the ship?" + +"Yeh, boss, that me," replied the chief in broken English. "You feel all +right now, eh?" + +"Where are the women we saw in the water?" + +"T'e _wahine_?" said Tahuna. "They all right, boss." + +"Where are they? I should like to see them. I should like to thank +them." + +The chief's wife, her back against the cliff, was resting after her +exertions. Amiria was attending to one of the men she had dragged out of +the surf, a tall, fair man, whose limbs she was chafing beside the fire. +When the chief called to his wife and the girl, Amiria rose, and placing +her Englishman in the charge of a big Maori woman, she flung over her +shoulders an old _korowai_ cloak which she had picked up from the beach, +and pushing through the throng, was presented to the captain. + +He was a short, thick-set man, weather-beaten by two score voyages. "So +you're the girl we saw in the water," said he. "Pleased to meet you, +miss, pleased to meet you," and then after a pause, "Your daughter, +chief?" + +Amiria's face broke into a smile, and from her pretty mouth bubbled the +sweetest laughter a man could hear. + +"Not my taughter," replied Tahuna, as his wife approached, "but this my +_wahine_, what you call wife." + +The Maori woman was smiling the generous smile of her race. + +"You're a brave crowd," said the captain. "My crew and I owe you our +lives. My prejudice against colour is shaken--I'm not sure that it'll +ever recover the shock you've given it. A man may sail round the world +a dozen times, an' there's still something he's got to learn. I never +would ha' believed a man, let alone a woman, could ha' swum in such a +sea. An' you're Natives of the country?--a fine race, a fine race." As +they stood, talking, rain had commenced to drive in from the sea. The +captain surveyed the miserable scene for a moment or two; then he +said, "I think, chief, that if you're ready we'll get these men under +shelter." And so, some supported by their dusky friends, and some +carried in blankets, the crew of _The Mersey Witch_, drenched and cold, +but saved from the sea, were conveyed to the huts of the _pa_. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +The Pilot's Daughter. + + +She came out of the creeper-covered house into a garden of roses, and +stood with her hand on a green garden-seat; herself a rosebud bursting +into perfection. + +Below her were gravelled walks and terraced flower-beds, cut out of the +hill-side on which the quaint, gabled house stood; her fragrant, small +domain carefully secreted behind a tall, clipped hedge, over the top of +which she could see from where she stood the long sweep of the road +which led down to the port of Timber Town. + +She was dressed in a plain, blue, cotton blouse and skirt; her not +over-tall figure swelling plumply beneath their starched folds. Her hair +was of a nondescript brown, beautified by a glint of gold, so that her +uncovered head looked bright in the sunlight. Her face was such as may +be seen any day in the villages which nestle beneath the Sussex Downs, +under whose shadow she was born; her forehead was broad and white; her +eyes blue; her cheeks the colour of the blush roses in her garden; her +mouth small, with lips coloured pink like a shell on the beach. As she +stood, gazing down the road, shading her eyes with her little hand, and +displaying the roundness and whiteness of her arm to the inquisitive +eyes of nothing more lascivious than the flowers, a girl on horseback +drew up at the gate, and called, "Cooee!" + +She was tall and brown, dressed in a blue riding-habit, and in her hand +she carried a light, silver-mounted whip. She jumped lightly from the +saddle, opened the gate, and led her horse up the drive. + +The fair girl ran down the path, and met her near the tethering-post +which stood under a tall bank. + +"Amiria, I _am_ glad to see you!" + +"But think of all I have to tell you." The brown girl's intonation was +deep, and she pronounced every syllable richly. "We don't have a wreck +every day to talk about." + +"Come inside, and have some lunch. You must be famishing after your long +ride." + +"Oh, no, I'm not hungry. _Taihoa_, by-and-by." + +The horse was tied up securely, and the girls, a contrast of blonde and +brunette, walked up the garden-path arm-in-arm. + +"I have heard _such_ things about you," said the fair girl. + +"But you should see him, my dear," said the brown. "You would have +risked a good deal to save him if you had been there--tall, strong, +struggling in the sea, and _so_ helpless." + +"You _are_ brave, Amiria. It's nonsense to pretend you don't know it. +All the town is talking about you." The white face looked at the brown, +mischievously. "And now that you have got him, my dear, keep him." + +Amiria's laugh rang through the garden. "There is no hope for me, if +_you_ are about, Miss Rose Summerhayes," she said. + +"But wasn't it perfectly awful? We heard you were drowned yourself." + +"Nonsense! I got wet, but that was all. Of course, if I was weak or a +bad swimmer, then there would have been no hope. But I know every rock, +every channel, where the sea breaks its force, and where it is +strongest. There was no danger." + +"How many men?" + +"Twenty-nine; and the one drowned makes thirty." + +"And which is _the_ particular one, your treasure trove? Of course, he +will marry you as soon as the water is out of his ears, and make you +happy ever afterwards." + +Amiria laughed again. "First, he is handsome; next, he is a _rangatira_, +well-born, as my husband ought to be. I really don't know his name. +Can't you guess that is what I have come to find out?" + +"You goose. You've come to unburden yourself. You were just dying to +tell me the story." + +They had paused on the verandah, where they sat on a wooden seat in the +shade. + +"Anyway, the wreck is better for the Maori than a sitting of the Land +Court--there! The shore is covered with boxes and bales and all manner +of things. There are ready-made clothes for everyone in the _pa_, boots, +tea, tobacco, sugar, everything that the people want--all brought ashore +from the wreck and strewn along the beach. The Customs' Officers get +some, but the Maori gets most. I've brought you a memento." + +She put her hand into the pocket of her riding-habit, and drew out a +little packet. "That is for you--a souvenir of the wreck." + +"Isn't it rather like stealing, to take what really belongs to other +people?" + +"Rubbish! Open it, and see for yourself," said Amiria, smiling. + +Rose undid the packet's covering, and disclosed a black leather-covered +case, much the worse for wear. + +"It isn't injured by the water--it was in a tin-lined box," said the +Maori girl. "It opens like a card-case." + +Rose opened the little receptacle, which divided in the middle, and +there lay exposed a miniature portrait framed in oxidized silver. + +The portrait represented a beautiful woman, yellow-haired, with blue +eyes and a bright colour on her cheeks, lips which showed indulgence in +every curve, and a snow-white neck around which was clasped a string of +red coral beads. + +Rose fixed her eyes on the picture. + +"Why do you give me this?" she asked. "Who is it?" + +Amiria turned the miniature over. On its back was written "Annabel +Summerhayes." + +Rose turned slightly pale as she read the name, and her breath caught in +her throat. "This must be my mother," she said quietly. "When she died, +I was too young to remember her." + +Both girls looked at the portrait; the brown face close to the fair, the +black hair touching the brown. + +"She must have been very good," said Amiria, "----look how kind she is." + +Rose was silent. + +"Isn't that a nice memento of the wreck," continued the Maori girl. "But +anyhow you would have received it, for the Collector of Customs has the +packing-case in which it was found. However, I thought you would like to +get it as soon as possible." + +"How kind you are," said Rose, as she kissed Amiria. "This is the only +picture of my mother I have seen. I never knew what she was like. This +is a perfect revelation to me." + +The tears were in her voice as well as in her eyes, and her lip +trembled. Softly one brown hand stole into her white one, and another +brown hand stole round her waist, and she felt Amiria's warm lips on her +cheek. The two girls had been playmates as children, they had been at +school together, and had always shared each other's confidences, but +this matter of Annabel Summerhayes was one which her father had +forbidden Rose to mention; and around the memory of her mother there +had grown a mystery which the girl was unable to fathom. + +"Now that this has occurred, there is no harm in disobeying my father," +she said. "He told me never to speak of my mother to him or anyone else, +but when you give me her picture, it would be stupid to keep silence. +She looks good, doesn't she, Amiria? I think she was good, but my father +destroyed everything belonging to her: he even took the trouble to +change my name from Annabel to Rose--that was after we arrived here and +I was three years old. I do not possess a single thing that was hers +except this picture; and even that I must hide, for fear my father +should destroy it. Come, we will go in." + +They passed along the shady verandah, and entered the house. Its rooms +were dark and cool, and prettily if humbly furnished. Rose took Amiria +along a winding passage, up a somewhat narrow flight of stairs, and into +a bedroom which was in one of the many gables of the wooden house. The +Maori girl took off her hat and gloves, and Rose, drawing a bunch of +keys from her pocket, opened a work-box which stood on the +dressing-table, and in it she hid the miniature of her mother. Then she +turned, and confronted Amiria. + +The dark girl's black hair, loosened by riding, had escaped from its +fastenings, and now fell rippling down her back. + +"It's a great trouble," she said. "Nothing will hold it--it is like +wire. The pins drop out, and down it all comes." + +Rose was combing and brushing the glossy, black tresses. "I'll try _my_ +hand," said she. "The secret is plenty of pins; you don't use enough of +them. Pins, I expect, are scarce in the _pa_." She had fastened up one +long coil, and was holding another in place with her white fingers, +when a gruff voice roared through the house:-- + +"Rosebud, my gal! Rosebud, I say! What's taken the child?" + +Whilst the two girls had been in the bedroom, three figures had come +into sight round the bend of the beach-road. They walked slowly, with +heavy steps and swaying gait, after the manner of sailor-men. As they +ascended the winding pathway leading to the house, they argued loudly. + +"Jes' so, Cap'n Summerhayes," said the short, thick-set man, with a +blanket wrapped round him in lieu of a coat, to the big burly man on his +left, "I stood off and on, West-Nor'-West and East-Sou'-East, waiting +for the gale to wear down and let me get into your tuppeny little port. +Now _you_ are pilot, I reckon. What would _you_ ha' done?" + +"What would I ha' done, Sartoris?" asked the bulky man gruffly. "Why, +damme, I'd ha' beat behind Guardian Point, and took shelter." + +"In the dark?" + +"In the dark, I tell you." + +"Then most likely, Pilot, you'd ha' run _The Witch_ on the Three +Sisters' reefs, or Frenchman's Island. I stood off an' on, back'ard an' +forrard." + +"An' shot yourself on to the rocks." + +The third man said nothing. He was looking at the Pilot's house and the +flowers while the two captains paused to argue, and fidgeted with the +blanket he wore over his shoulders. + +"Well, come in, come in," said the Pilot. "We'll finish the argyment +over a glass an' a snack." And then it was that he had roared for his +daughter, who, leaving Amiria to finish her toilet, tripped downstairs +to meet her father. + +"Why, Rosebud, my gal, I've been calling this half-hour," exclaimed +the gruff old Pilot. "An' here's two gentlemen I've brought you, two +shipwrecked sailors--Cap'n Sartoris, of _The Mersey Witch_, and Mr. +Scarlett." His voice sounded like the rattling of nails in a keg, and +his manner was as rough as his voice. + +Each blanketed man stepped awkwardly forward and shook hands with the +girl, first the captain, and then the tall, uncomfortable-looking, +younger man, who turned the colour indicated by his name. + +"What they want is a rig-out," rumbled the Pilot of Timber Town; "some +coats, Rosebud; some shirts, and a good feed." The grizzled old +mariner's face broke into a grim smile. "I'm Cap'n Summerhayes, an't I? +I'm Pilot o' this port, an't I?--an' Harbour Master, in a manner o' +speaking? Very good, my gal. In all those capacities--regardless that +I'm your dad--I tell you to make these gen'lemen comfortable, as if they +were at home; for you never know, Rosebud, when you may be entertaining +a husband unawares. You never know." And, chuckling, the old fellow led +the shipwrecked men into his bedroom. + +When they had been provided with suits belonging to the Pilot, they were +shown into the parlour, where they sat with their host upon oak chairs +round a battered, polished table, with no cloth upon it. + +Captain Sartoris was a moderately good-looking man, if a trifle +weather-beaten, but dressed in the Pilot's clothes he was in danger +of being lost and smothered; and Scarlett bore himself like one who +laboured under a load of misery almost too great to be borne, but he had +wisely rejected the voluminous coat proffered by his benefactor, and +appeared in waistcoat and trousers which gave him the appearance of a +growing boy dressed in his father's cast-off apparel. + +Such was the guise of the shipwrecked men as they sat hiding as much of +themselves as possible under the Pilot's table, whilst Rose Summerhayes +bustled about the room. She took glasses from the sideboard and a +decanter from a dumb-waiter which stood against the wall, and placed +them on the table. + +"And Rosebud, my gal," said the Pilot, "as it's quite two hours to +dinner, we'll have a morsel of bread and cheese." + +The French window stood open, and from the garden was blown the scent of +flowers. + +Rose brought the bread and cheese, and stood with her hands folded upon +her snowy apron, alert to supply any further wants of the guests. + +"And whose horse is that on the drive?" asked the Pilot. + +"Amiria's," replied his daughter. + +"Good: that's a gal after my heart. I'm glad she's come." + +"Take a chair, miss," said Captain Sartoris from the depths of the vast +garments that encumbered him. + +"Thank you," replied Rose, "but I've the dinner to cook." + +"Most domestic, I'm sure," continued Sartoris, trying hard to say the +correct thing. "Most right an' proper. Personally, I like to see young +ladies attend to home dooties." + +Rose laughed. "Which is to say the comfort of you men." + +"My gal," said her father sternly, "we have all we want. Me an' these +gen'lemen will be quite happy till dinner-time." + +Rose stooped to pick up the boots which her father had discarded for a +pair of carpet-slippers, and rustled out of the room. + +"Gen'lemen," said the Pilot of Timber Town, "we'll drink to better luck +next time." + +The three men carefully filled their glasses, emptied them in solemn +silence, and put them almost simultaneously with a rattle on the +polished table. + +"Ah!" exclaimed the Pilot, after a long-drawn breath. "Four over proof. +Soft as milk, an't it? Goes down like oil, don't it?" + +"Most superior tipple," replied the skipper, "but you had your losses in +_The Witch_, same as me and the owners. I had aboard six cases of the +finest port as ever you tasted, sent out for you by your brother; senior +partner of the firm, Mr. Scarlett. 'Cap'n Sartoris,' he says, 'I wish +you good luck and a prosperous voyage, but take care o' that port wine +for my brother. There's dukes couldn't buy it.' 'No, sir,' I says to +him, 'but shipowners an' dukes are different. Shipowners usually get the +pick of a cargo.' He laughed, an' I laughed: which we wouldn't ha' done +had we known _The Witch_ was going to be piled up on this confounded +coast." + +The Pilot had risen to his feet. His face was crimson with excitement, +and his brow dark with passion. + +"Cap'n Sartoris!" he exclaimed, as he brought his fist with a bang upon +the table, so that the decanter and tumblers rattled, "every sea-faring +man hates to see a good ship wrecked, whoever the owner may be. None's +more sorry than me to see the bones of your ship piled on that reef. But +when you talk about bringing me a present o' wine from my brother, you +make my blood boil. To Hell with him and all his ships!" With another +bang upon the table, he paced up and down, breathing deeply, and +trembling with passion still unvented. + +Sartoris and Scarlett looked with astonishment at the suddenly +infuriated man. + +"As for his cursed port wine," continued the Pilot, "let him keep it. +_I_ wouldn't drink it." + +"In which case," said the skipper, "if I'd ha' got into port, I'd ha' +been most happy to have drank it myself." + +"I'd have lent you a hand, Captain," said Scarlett. + +"Most happy," replied Sartoris. "We'd ha' drank the firm's health, and +the reconciliation o' these two brothers. But, Pilot, let me ask a +question. What on this earth could your brother, Mr. Summerhayes, ha' +done to make you reject six cases o' port--reject 'em with scorn: six +cases o' the best port as was ever shipped to this or any other country? +Now, that's what puzzles me." + +"Then, Cap'n Sartoris--without any ill-feeling to you, though I do +disagree with your handling o' that ship--I say you'll have to puzzle it +out. But I ask this: If _you_ had a brother who was the greatest +blackguard unhung, would _you_ drink his port wine?" + +"It would largely depend on the quality," said the skipper--"the quality +of the wine, not o' the man." + +"The senior partner of your firm is my brother." + +"That's right. I don't deny it." + +"If he hadn't been my brother I'd ha' killed him as sure as God made +little apples. He'd a' bin dead this twenty year. It was the temptation +to do it that drove me out of England; and I vowed I'd never set foot +there while he lived. And he sends me presents of port wine. I wish it +may choke him! I wish he may drink himself to death with it! Look you +here, Sartoris: you bring back the anger I thought was buried this long +while; you open the wound that twelve thousand miles of sea and this new +country were healing. But--but I thank God I never touched him. I thank +God I never proved as big a blackguard as he. But don't mention his name +to me. If you think so much of him that you must be talking, talk to my +gal, Rosebud. Tell her what a fine man she's got for an uncle, how +rich he is, how generous--but _I_ shall never mention his name. I'm a +straight-spoken man. If I was to tell my gal what I thought of him, I +should fill her with shame that such a man should be kindred flesh and +blood." + +The Pilot had stood still to deliver this harangue, and he now sat down, +and buried his face in his hands. When he again raised his head, the +skipper without a ship was helping himself sorrowfully to more of the +whisky that was four over proof. + +Slowly the rugged Pilot rose, and passed out of the French window into +the garden of roses and the sunlight. + +"I think," said Sartoris, passing the decanter to Scarlett, "that +another drop o' this will p'raps straighten us up a bit, and help us to +see what we've gone an' done. For myself, I own I've lost my bearings +and run into a fog-bank. I'd be glad if some one would help me out." + +"The old man's a powder-magazine, to which you managed to put a match. +That's how it is, Captain. These many years he's been a sleeping +volcano, which has broken suddenly into violent eruption." + +Both men, figures comical enough for a pantomime, looked seriously at +each other; but not so Amiria, whose face appeared in the doorway. + +"It's a mystery, a blessed puzzle; but I'd give half-a-crown for a +smoke," said Sartoris, looking wistfully at the Pilot's tobacco-pipes on +the mantelpiece. "I wonder if the young lady would object if I had a +draw." + +There was an audible titter in the passage. + +"A man doesn't realise how poor he can be till he gets shipwrecked," +said Scarlett: "then he knows what the loss of his pipe and 'baccy +means." + +There was a scuffling outside the door, and the young lady with the +brown eyes was forcibly pushed into the room. + +"Oh, Rose, I'm ashamed," exclaimed the Maori girl, as the Pilot's +daughter pushed her forward. "But you two men are so funny and +miserable, that I can't help myself,"--she laughed good-naturedly--"and +there's Captain Summerhayes, fretting and fuming in the garden, as if +he'd lost a thousand pounds." + +The scarecrows had risen respectfully to their feet, when suddenly the +humour of the situation struck them, and they laughed in unison; and +Amiria, shaking with merriment, collapsed upon the sofa, and hid her +mirth in its cushions. + +"Never mind," said the skipper, "it's not the clo'es that make the man. +Thank God for that, Scarlett. Clo'es can't make a man a bigger rogue +than he is." + +"Thank God for this." Scarlett tapped his waist. "I've got here what +will rig you out to look less like a Guy Fawkes. You had your money in +your cabin when the ship struck; mine is in my belt." + +"I wondered, when I pulled you ashore," said the Maori girl, "what it +was you had round your waist." + +Scarlett looked intently at the girl on the sofa. + +"Do you mean _you_ are the girl that saved me? You have metamorphosed +yourself. Do you dress for a new character every day? Does she make a +practice of this sort of thing, Miss Summerhayes--one day, a girl in the +_pa_; the next, a young lady of Timber Town?" + +"Amiria is two people in one," replied Rose, "and I have not found out +which of them I like most, and I have known them both for ten years." + +"Most interesting," said Captain Sartoris, shambling forward in his +marvellous garb, and taking hold of the Maori girl's hand. "The +privilege of a man old enough to be your father, my dear. I was glad to +meet you on the beach--no one could ha' been gladder--but I'm proud to +meet you in the house of my old friend, Cap'n Summerhayes, and in the +company of this young lady." There could be no doubt that the over-proof +spirit was going to the skipper's head. "But how did you get here, my +dear?" + +"I rode," replied Amiria, rising from the sofa. "My horse is on the +drive. Come and see him." + +She led the way through the French-window, and linked arms with Rose, +whilst the two strange figures followed like a couple of characters in a +comic opera. + +On the drive stood the Pilot, who held Amiria's big bay horse as +if it were some wild animal that might bite. He had passed round the +creature's neck a piece of tarred rope, which he was making fast to the +tethering-post, while he exclaimed, "Whoa, my beauty. Stand still, stand +still. Who's going to hurt you?" + +The Maori girl, holding her skirt in one hand, tripped merrily forward +and took the rope from the old seaman's grasp. + +"Really, Captain," she said, laughing, "why didn't you tie his legs +together, and then lash him to the post? There, there, Robin." She +patted the horse's neck. "You don't care about eating pilots, or salt +fish, do you, Robin?" + +"We'll turn him into the paddock up the hill," said Rose. "Dinner's +ready, and I'm sure the horse is not more hungry than some of us." + +"None more so than Mr. Scarlett an' myself," said Sartoris, "----we've +not had a sit-down meal since we were wrecked." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +Rachel Varnhagen. + + +He sat on a wool-bale in his "store," amid bags of sugar, chests of tea, +boxes of tobacco, octaves of spirits, coils of fencing-wire, bales of +hops, rolls of carpets and floor-cloth, piles of factory-made clothes, +and a miscellaneous collection of merchandise. + +Old Varnhagen was a general merchant who, with equal complacency, would +sell a cask of whisky, or purchase the entire wool-clip of a "run" as +big as an English county. Raising his eyes from a keg of nails, he +glanced lovingly round upon his abundant stock in trade; rubbed his fat +hands together; chuckled; placed one great hand on his capacious stomach +to support himself as his laughter vibrated through his ponderous body, +and then he said, "'Tear me, 'tear me, it all com' to this. 'Tear, +'tear, how it make me laff. It jus' com' to this: the Maoris have got +his cargo. All Mr. Cookenden's scheming to beat me gifs me the pull over +him. 'Tear me, it make me ill with laffing. If I believed in a God, I +should say Jehovah haf after all turn his face from the Gentile, and +fight for his Chosen People. The cargo is outside the port: a breath of +wind, and it is strewn along the shore. Now, that's what I call an +intervention of Providence." + +He got off the wool-bale much in the manner in which a big seal clumsily +takes the water, and walked up and down his store; hands in pockets, hat +on the back of his head, and a complacent smile overspreading his face. +As he paused at the end of the long alleyway, formed by his piles of +merchandise, and turned again to traverse the length of the warehouse, +he struck an attitude of contemplation. + +"Ah! but the insurance?" he exclaimed. As he stood, with bent head +and grave looks, he was the typical Jew of the Ghetto; crafty, timid, +watchful, cynical, cruel; his grizzled hair, close-clipped, crisp, and +curly; his face pensive, and yellow as a lemon. + +"But he will haf seen to that: I gif him that much credit. But in the +meantime he is without his goods, and the money won't be paid for +months. That gif me a six-months' pull over him." + +The old smile came back, and he began to pace the store once more. + +There was a rippling laugh at the further end of the building where +Varnhagen's private office, partitioned off with glass and boards from +the rest of the store, opened on the street. It was a laugh the old man +knew well, for he hopped behind a big pile of bales like a boy playing +hide-and-seek, and held his breath in expectation. + +Presently, there bustled into the warehouse a vision of muslin and +ribbons. Her face was the face of an angel. It did not contain a feature +that might not have been a Madonna's. She had a lemon-yellow complexion, +brightened by a flush of carmine in the cheeks; her eyes were like two +large, lustrous, black pearls; her hair, parted in the middle, was +glossy and waving; her eyebrows were pencilled and black; her lips were +as red as the petals of the geranium. But though this galaxy of beauties +attracted, it was the exquisite moulding of the face that riveted the +attention of Packett, the Jew's storeman, who had conducted the dream of +loveliness to the scene. + +She tapped the floor impatiently with her parasol. + +"Fa-ther!" + +She stamped her dainty foot in pretty anger. + +"The aggravating old bird! I expect he's hiding somewhere." + +There came a gurgling chuckle from amid the piled-up bales. + +The girl stood, listening. "Come out of that!" she cried. But there was +never another sound--the chuckling had ceased. + +She skirmished down a by-alley, and stormed a kopje of rugs and +linoleums; but found nothing except the store tom-cat in hiding on +the top. Having climbed down the further side, she found herself in a +difficult country of enamelled ware and wooden buckets, but successfully +extricating herself from this entanglement she ascended a spur of +carpet-rolls, and triumphantly crowned the summit of the lofty mountain +of wool-bales. The country round lay at her feet, and half-concealed +behind a barrel of Portland cement she saw the crouching form of the +enemy. + +Her head was up among the timbers of the roof, and hanging to nails in +the cross-beams were countless twisted lengths of clothesline, and with +these dangerous projectiles she began to harass the foe. Amid the hail +of hempen missiles the white flag was hoisted, and the enemy +surrendered. + +"Rachel! Rachel! Come down, my girl. You'll break your peautiful neck. +Packett, what you stand there for like a wooden verandah-post? Go up, +and help Miss Varnhagen down. Take care!--my 'tear Rachel!--look out for +that bucket!--mind that coil of rubber-belting! Pe careful! That bale of +hops is ofer! My 'tear child, stand still, I tell you; wait till I get +the ladder." + +With Packett in a position to cut off retreat, and the precipice of +wool-bales in front, Rachel sat down and shook with laughter. + +Varnhagen naturally argued that his pretty daughter's foot, now that +the tables were so suddenly turned upon her, would with the storeman's +assistance be quickly set upon the top rung of the ladder which was now +in position. But he had not yet learned all Rachel's stratagems. + +"No!" she cried. "I think I'll stay here." + +"My child, my Rachel, you will fall!" + +"Oh, dear, no: it's as firm as a rock. No, Packett, you can go down. I +shall stay here." + +"But, my 'tear Rachel, you'll be killed! Come down, I beg." + +"Will you promise to do what I want?" + +"My 'tear daughter, let us talk afterwards. I can think of nothing while +you are in danger of being killed in a moment!" + +"I want that gold watch in Tresco's window. I sha'n't come down till you +say I can have it." + +"My peautiful Rachel, it is too expensive. I will import you one for +half the price. Come down before it is too late." + +"What's the good of watches in London? I want that watch at Tresco's, to +wear going calling. Consent, father, before it is too late." + +"My loafly, how much was the watch?" + +"Twenty-five pounds." + +"Oh, that is too much. First, you will ruin me, and kill yourself +afterwards to spite my poverty. Rachel, you make your poor old father +quite ill." + +"Then I am to have the watch?" + +"Nefer mind the watch. Some other time talk to me of the watch. Come +down safe to your old father, before you get killed." + +"But I _do_ mind the watch. It's what I came for. I shall stay here till +you consent." + +"Oh, Rachel, you haf no heart. You don't loaf your father." + +"You don't love your daughter, else you'd give me what I want." + +"I not loaf you, Rachel! Didn't I gif you that ring last week, and the +red silk dress the week pefore? Come down, my child, and next birthday +you shall have a better watch than in all Tresco's shop. My 'tear +Rachel, my 'tear child, you'll be killed; and what good will be your +father's money to him then? Oh! that bale moved. Rachel! sit still." + +"Then you'll give me the watch?" + +"Yes, yes. You shall have the watch. Come down now, while Packett holds +your hand." + +"Can I have it to-day?" + +"Be careful, Packett. Oh! that bale is almost ofer." + +"Will you give it me this morning, father?" + +"Yes, yes, this morning." + +"Before I go home to dinner?" + +"Yes, pefore dinner." + +"Then, Packett, give me your hand. I will come down." + +The dainty victress placed her little foot firmly on the uppermost rung; +and while Packett held the top, and the merchant the bottom, of the +ladder, the dream of muslin and ribbons descended to the floor. + +Old Varnhagen gave a sigh of relief. + +"You'll nefer do that again, Rachel?" + +"I hope I shall never need to." + +"You shouldn't upset your poor old father like that, Rachel." + +"You shouldn't drive me to use such means to make you do your duty." + +"My duty!" + +"Yes, to give me that watch." + +"Ah, the watch. I forgot it." + +"I shall go now, and get it." + +"Yes, my child, get it." + +"I'll say you will pay at the end of the month." + +"Yes, I will pay--perhaps at the end of the month, perhaps it will go +towards a contra account for watches I shall supply to Tresco. We shall +see." + +"Good-bye, father." + +"Good-bye, Rachel; but won't you gif your old father a kiss pefore you +go?" + +The vision of muslin and ribbons laid her parasol upon an upturned +barrel, and came towards the portly Jew. Her soft dress was crumpled by +his fat hand, and her pretty head was nestled on his shoulder. + +"Ah! my 'tear Rachel. Ah! my peautiful. You loaf your old father. My +liddle taughter, I gif you everything; and you loaf me very moch, eh?" + +"Of course, I do. And won't it look well with a brand-new gold chain to +match?" + +"Next time my child wants something, she won't climb on the wool-bales +and nearly kill herself?" + +"Of course not. I shall wear it this afternoon when I go out calling." + +"Now kiss me, and run away while I make some more money for my liddle +Rachel." + +The saintly face raised itself, and looked with a smile into the face of +the old Jew; and then the bright red lips fixed themselves upon his +wrinkled cheek. + +"You are a good girl; you are my own child; you shall have everything +you ask; you shall have all I've got to give." + +"Good-bye, father. Thanks awfully much." + +"Good-bye, Rachel." + +The girl turned; the little heels tapped regularly on the floor; the +pigeon-like walk was resumed; and Rachel Varnhagen, watched by the +loving eyes of her father, passed into the street. + +The gold-buying clerk at the Kangaroo Bank was an immaculately dressed +young man with a taste for jewelry. In his tie he wore a pearl, in a +gold setting shaped like a diminutive human hand; his watch-chain was +of gold, wrought in a wonderful and extravagant design. As he stepped +through the swinging, glazed doors of the Bank, and stood on the broad +step without, at the witching hour of twelve, he twirled his small black +moustache so as to display to advantage the sparkling diamond ring which +encircled the little finger of his left hand. His Semitic features wore +an expression of great self-satisfaction, and his knowing air betokened +intimate knowledge of the world and all that therein is. He nodded +familiarly to a couple of young men who passed by, and glanced with the +appreciative eye of a connoisseur at the shop-girls who were walking +briskly to their dinners. + +Loitering across the pavement he stood upon the curbing, and looked +wistfully up and down the street. Presently there hove in sight a figure +that riveted his attention: it was Rachel Varnhagen, with muslins +blowing in the breeze and ribbons which streamed behind, approaching +like a ship in full sail. + +The gold-clerk crossed over the street to meet her, and raised his hat. + +"You're in an awful hurry. Where bound, Rachel?" + +"If _your_ old Dad told _you_ to go and buy a gold watch and chain, +_you'd_ be in a hurry, lest he might change his mind." + +"My soul hankers after something dearer than watches and chains. If your +Dad would give me leave, I'd annex his most precious jewel before he +could say, 'Knife!' He'd never get a chance to change his mind. But he +always says, 'My boy, you wait till you're a manager, and can give me a +big overdraft.' At that rate we shall have to wait till Doomsday." + +"The watch is at Tresco's. Come along: help me turn the shop upside down +to find the dandiest." + +"How d'you manage to get round the Governor, Rachel? I'd like to know +the dodge." + +"He wouldn't mind if _you_ fell off a stack of bales and broke your +neck. He'd say, 'Thank God! that solves that liddle difficulty.'" + +"Wool bales? Has wool gone up? I don't understand." + +"Of course you don't, stupid. If you were on the top of a pile of +swaying bales, old Podge would say, 'Packett, take away the ladder: that +nice young man must stay there. It's better for him to die than marry +Rachel--she'd drive him mad with bills in a month.'" + +"Oh, that wouldn't trouble me--I'd draw on _him_." + +"Oh, would you?" Rachel laughed sceptically. "You don't know the Gov. if +you think that. You couldn't bluff him into paying a shilling. But _I_ +manage him all right. _I_ can get what I want, from a trip to Sydney to +a gold watch, dear boy." + +"Then why don't you squeeze a honeymoon out of him?--that would be +something new, Rachel." + +She actually paused in her haste. + +"Wouldn't it be splendid!" she exclaimed, putting her parasol well back +behind her head, so that the glow of its crimson silk formed a telling +background to her face. "Wouldn't it be gorgeous? But as soon as I'm +married he will say, 'No, Rachel, my dear child, your poor old father is +supplanted--your husband now has the sole privilege of satisfying your +expensive tastes. Depend on him for everything you want.' What a +magnificent time I should have on your twelve notes a month!" + +The spruce bank-clerk was subdued in a moment, in the twinkling of one +of Rachel's beautiful black eyes--his matrimonial intentions had been +rudely reduced to a basis of pounds, shillings and pence. + +But just at this embarrassing point of the conversation they turned into +Tresco's doorway, and confronted the rubicund goldsmith, whose beaming +smile seemed to fill the whole shop. + +"I saw an awf'ly jolly watch in your window," said Rachel. + +"Probably. Nothing more likely, Miss Varnhagen," replied Benjamin. "Gold +or silver?" + +"Gold, of course! Let me see what you've got." + +"Why, certainly." Tresco took gold watches from the window, from the +glass case on the counter, from the glass cupboard that stood against +the wall, from the depths of the great iron safe, from everywhere, +and placed them in front of the pretty Jewess. Then he glanced with +self-approval at the bank-clerk, and said: "I guarantee them to keep +perfect time. And, after all, there's nothing like a good watch--a young +lady cannot keep her appointments, or a young man be on time, without a +watch. Most important: no one should be without it." + +Rachel was examining the chronometers, one by one; opening and shutting +their cases, examining their dials, peering into their mysterious works. +She had taken off her gloves, and her pretty hands, ornamented with +dainty rings, were displayed in all their shapeliness and delicacy. + +"What's the price?" she asked. + +"Prices to suit all buyers," said Tresco. "They go from ten pounds +upwards. This is the one I recommend--it carries a guarantee for +five years--jewelled throughout, in good, strong case--duplex +escapement--compensation balance. Price L25." He held up a gold +chronometer in a case which was flat and square, with rounded corners, +and engraved elaborately--a watch which would catch the eye and induce +comment. + +The jeweller had gauged the taste of his fair customer. + +"Oh! the duck." + +"The identical article, the ideal lady's watch," said Tresco, +unctuously. + +"And now the chain," said Rachel. + +Benjamin took a dozen lady's watch-guards from a blue velvet pad, and +handed them to the girl. + +The gold clerk of the Kangaroo Bank stood by, and watched, as Rachel +held the dainty chains, one by one, across her bust. + +"Quite right, sir, quite right," remarked the goldsmith. "When a +gentleman makes a present to a lady, let him do the thing handsome. +Them's my sentiments." + +The girl looked at Tresco, and laughed. + +"This is to be booked to my father," she said. "There, that's the one I +like best." She held out an elaborate chain, with a round bauble hanging +from it. "If you had to depend on Mr. Zahn, here, you'd have to wait +till the cows came home." + +Benjamin was wrapping up the watch in a quantity of tissue paper. + +"No, no. I'll wear it," exclaimed Rachel. One dainty hand stretched +forward and took the watch, while the other held the chain. "There," she +said, as she handed the precious purchase to her sweetheart, "fix it +on." + +She threw her head back, laid her hand lightly on the young man's arm, +and allowed him to tuck the watch into her bodice and fasten the chain +around her neck. + +He lingered long over the process. + +"Yes, I would," said the voice from behind the counter. "I most +certainly should give her one on the cheek, as a reward. Don't mind me; +I've done it myself when I was young, before I lost my looks." + +The young man stepped back, and Rachel, after the manner of a pouter +pigeon, nestled her chin on her breast, in her endeavour to see how the +watch looked in wearing. Then she tapped the floor with the toe of her +shoe indignantly, and said, looking straight at the goldsmith: "You lost +your looks? What a find they must have been for the man who picked them +up. If I were you, I'd advertise for them, and offer a handsome a +reward--they must be valuable." + +"Most certainly, they were," replied Benjamin, his smile spreading +across his broad countenance, "they were the talk of all my lady friends +and the envy of my rivals." + +"I expect it was the rivals that spoilt them. But don't cry over spilt +milk, old gentleman." + +"Certainly not, most decidedly not--there are compensations. The price +of the watch and chain is L33." + +"Never mind the price. _I_ don't want to know the price--that'll +interest my Dad. Send the account to him, and make yourself happy." + +And, touching her sweetheart's arm as a signal for departure, the +dazzling vision of muslins and ribbons vanished from the shop. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +Bill the Prospector. + + +He came down the street like a dog that has strayed into church during +sermon-time; a masterless man without a domicile. He was unkempt and +travel-stained; his moleskin trousers, held up by a strap buckled round +his waist, were trodden down at the heels; under the hem of his coat, a +thing of rents and patches, protruded the brass end of a knife-sheath. +His back was bent under the weight of his neat, compact swag, which +contained his six-by-eight tent and the blankets and gear necessary to a +bushman. He helped his weary steps with a long _manuka_ stick, to which +still clung the rough red bark, and looking neither to left nor right, +he steadfastly trudged along the middle of the road. What with his +ragged black beard which grew almost to his eyes, and the brim of his +slouch hat, which had once been black, but was now green with age and +weather, only the point of his rather characterless nose and his two +bright black eyes were visible. But though to all appearances he was a +desperate ruffian, capable of robbery and cold-blooded murder, his was a +welcome figure in Timber Town. Men turned to look at him as he tramped +past in his heavy, mud-stained blucher boots. One man, standing outside +The Lucky Digger, asked him if he had "struck it rich." But the +"swagger" looked at the man, without replying. + +"Come and have a drink, mate," said another. + +"Ain't thirsty," replied the "swagger." + +"Let 'im alone," said a third. "Can't you see he's bin working a +'duffer'?" + +Benjamin Tresco, standing on the curb of the pavement, watched the +advent of the prospector with an altogether remarkable interest, which +rose to positive restlessness when he saw the digger pause before the +entrance of the Kangaroo Bank. + +The ill-clad, dirty stranger pushed through the swinging, glass door, +stood with his hobnailed boots on the tesselated pavement inside the +bank, and contemplated the Semitic face of the spruce clerk who, with +the glittering gold-scales by his side, stood behind the polished +mahogany counter. + +But either the place looked too grand and expensive, or else the clerk's +appearance offended, but the "swagger" backed out of the building, and +stood once more upon the asphalt, wearing the air of a stray dog with no +home or friends. + +Tresco crossed the street. With extended hand, portly mien, and benign +countenance, he approached the digger, after the manner of a benevolent +sidesman in a church. + +"Selling gold, mate?" He spoke in his most confidential manner. "Come +this way. _I_ will help you." + +Down the street he took the derelict, like a ship in full sail towing a +battered, mastless craft into a haven of safety. + +Having brought the "swagger" to a safe anchorage inside his shop, Tresco +shut the door, to the exclusion of all intruders; took his gold-scales +from a shelf where they had stood, unused and dusty, for many a month; +stepped behind the counter, and said, in his best business manner: "Now, +sir." + +The digger unhitched his swag and dropped it unceremoniously on the +floor, stood his long _manuka_ stick against the wall, thrust his hand +inside his "jumper," looked at the goldsmith's rubicund face, drew out a +long canvas bag which was tied at the neck with a leather boot-lace, and +said, in a hoarse whisper, "There, mister, that's my pile." + +Tresco balanced the bag in his hand. + +"You've kind o' struck it," he said, as he looked at the digger with a +blandness which could not have been equalled. + +The digger may have grinned, or he may have scowled--Tresco could not +tell--but, to all intents and purposes, he remained imperturbable, for +his wilderness of hair and beard, aided by his hat, covered the +landscape of his face. + +"Ja-ake!" roared the goldsmith, in his rasping, raucous voice, as though +the apprentice were quarter of a mile away. "Come here, you young limb!" + +The shock-headed, rat-faced youth shot like a shrapnel shell from the +workshop, and burst upon the astonished digger's gaze. + +"Take this bob and a jug," said the goldsmith, "and fetch a quart. We'll +drink your health," he added, turning to the man with the gold, "and a +continual run of good luck." + +The digger for the first time found his full voice. It was as though the +silent company of the wood-hens in the "bush" had caused the hinges of +his speech to become rusty. His words jerked themselves spasmodically +from behind his beard, and his sentences halted, half-finished. + +"Yes. That's so. If you ask me. Nice pile? Oh, yes. Good streak o' luck. +Good streak, as you say. Yes. Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" He actually broke into a +laugh. + +Tresco polished the brass dish of his scales, which had grown dim and +dirty with disuse; then he untied the bag of gold, and poured the rich +contents into the dish. The gold lay in a lovely, dull yellow heap. + +"Clean, rough gold," said Tresco, peering closely at the precious mound, +and stirring it with his grimy forefinger. "It'll go L3 15s. You're in +luck, mister. You've struck it rich, and"--he assumed his most benignant +expression--"there's plenty more where this came from, eh?" + +"You bet," said the digger. "Oh, yes, any Gawd's quantity." He laughed +again. "You must think me pretty green, mister." He continued to laugh. +"How much for the lot?" + +Tresco spread the gold over the surface of the dish in a layer, and, +puffing gently but adroitly, he winnowed it with his nicotine-ladened +breath till no particle of sand remained with the gold. Then he put the +dish on the scales, and weighed the digger's "find." + +"Eighty-two ounces ten pennyweights six grains," he said, with infinite +deliberation, and began to figure on a piece of paper. Seemingly, the +goldsmith's arithmetic was as rusty as the digger's speech, for the sum +took so long to work out that the owner of the gold had time to cut a +"fill" of tobacco from a black plug, charge his pipe, and smoke for +fully five minutes, before Tresco proclaimed the total. This he did +with a triumphant wave of the pen. + +"Three hundred and nine pounds seven shillings and elevenpence farthing. +That's as near as I can get it. Nice clean gold, mister." + +He looked at the digger; the digger looked at him. + +"What name?" asked Tresco. "To whom shall I draw the cheque?" + +"That's good! My name?" laughed the digger. "I s'pose it's usual, eh?" + +"De-cidedly." + +"Sometimes they call me Bill the Prospector, sometimes Bill the Hatter. +I ain't particular. I've got no choice. Take which you like." + +"'Pay Bill the Prospector, or Order, three hundred and nine pounds.' No, +sir, that will hardlee do. I want your real name, your proper legal +title." + +"Sounds grand, don't it? 'Legal title,' eh? But if you must have +it--though it ar'n't hardly ever used--put me down Bill Wurcott. That +suit, eh?--Bill Wurcott?" + +Tresco began to draw the cheque. + +"Never mind the silver," said the digger. "Make it three hundred an' +nine quid." And just then Jake entered with the quart jug, tripped over +the digger's swag, spilt half-a-pint of beer on the floor, recovered +himself in time to save the balance, and exclaimed, "Holee smoke!" + +"Tell yer what," said the digger. "Let the young feller have the change. +Good idea, eh?" + +Jake grinned--he grasped the situation in a split second. + +The digger took the cheque from Tresco, looked at it upside-down, and +said, "That's all right," folded it up, put it in his breeches' pocket +just as if it had been a common one-pound note, and remarked, "Well, I +must make a git. So-long." + +"No, sir," said the goldsmith. "There is the beer: here are the men. No, +sir; not thus must you depart. Refresh the inner man. Follow me. We must +drink your health and continued good fortune." + +Carefully carrying the beer, Tresco led the way to his workshop, placed +the jug on his bench, and soon the amber-coloured liquor foamed in two +long glasses. + +The digger put his pint to his hairy lips, said, "_Kia ora._ Here's +fun," drank deep and gasped--the froth ornamenting his moustache. "The +first drop I've tasted this three months." + +"You must ha' come from way back, where there're no shanties," risked +Tresco. + +"From way back," acknowledged the digger. + +"Twelve solid weeks? You _must_ have a thirst." + +"Pretty fair, you bet." The digger groped about in the depth of his +pocket, and drew forth a fine nugget. "Look at that," he said, with his +usual chuckle. + +Tresco balanced the lump of gold in his deft hand. + +"Three ounces?" + +"Three, six." + +"'Nother little cheque. Turn out your pockets, mister. I'll buy all +you've got." + +"That's the lot," said the digger, taking back the nugget and fingering +it lovingly. "I don't sell that--it's my lucky bit; the first I found." +Another chuckle. "Tell you what. Some day you can make me something +outer this, something to wear for a charm. No alloy, you understand; all +pure gold. And use the whole nugget." + +Tresco pursed his lips, and looked contemplative. + +"A three-ounce charm, worn round the neck, might strangle a digger in a +swollen creek. Where'd his luck be then? But how about your missis? +Can't you divide it?" + +The digger laughed his loudest. + +"Give it the missis! That's good. The missis'd want more'n an ounce and +a half for her share. Mister, wimmen's expensive." + +"Ain't you got no kid to share the charm with?" + +"Now you're gettin' at me"--the chuckle again--"worse 'an ever. You're +gettin' at me fine. Look 'ere, I'm goin' to quit: I'm off." + +"But, in the meantime, what am I to do with this nice piece of gold? I +could make a ring for each of your fingers, and some for your toes. I +could pretty near make you a collarette, to wear when you go to evening +parties in a low-necked dress, or a watch chain more massive than the +bloomin' Mayor's. There's twelve pounds' worth of gold in that piece." + +The digger looked perplexed. The problem puzzled him. + +"How'd an amulet suit you?" suggested the goldsmith. + +"A what?" + +"A circle for the arm, with a charm device chased on it." + +"A bit like a woman, that--eh, mister?" + +"Not at all. The Prince o' Wales, an' the Dook o' York, an' all the +_elite_ wears 'em. It'd be quite the fashion." + +The digger returned the nugget to his pocket. "I call you a dam' amusin' +cuss, I do that. You're a goer. There ain't no keepin' up with the likes +o' _you_. You shall make what you blame well please--we'll talk about it +by-and-by. But for the present, where's the best pub?" + +"The Lucky Digger," said Jake, without hesitation. + +"Certainly," reiterated Tresco. "You'll pass it on your way to the +Bank." + +"Well, so-long," said the digger. "See you later." And, shouldering his +swag, he held out his horny hand. + +"I reckon," said the goldsmith. "Eight o'clock this evening. So-long." +And the digger went out. + +Tresco stood on his doorstep, and with half-shut eyes watched the +prospector to the door of The Lucky Digger. + +"Can't locate it," he mused, "and I know where all the gold, sold in +this town, comes from. Nor I can't locate _him_. But he's struck it, and +struck it rich." + +There were birch twigs caught in the straps of the digger's "swag," and +he had a bit of _rata_ flower stuck in the band of his hat. "That's +where he's come from!" Tresco pointed in the direction of the great +range of mountains which could be seen distinctly through the window of +his workshop. + +"What's it worth?" asked Jake, who stood beside his master. + +"The gold? Not a penny less than L3/17/-an ounce, my son." + +"An' you give L3/15/-. Good business, boss." + +"I drew him a cheque for three hundred pounds, and I haven't credit at +the bank for three hundred shillings. So I must go and sell this gold +before he has time to present my cheque. Pretty close sailing, Jake. + +"But mark me, young shaver. There's better times to come. If the +discovery of this galoot don't mean a gold boom in Timber Town, you may +send the crier round and call me a flathead. Things is goin' to hum." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +The Father of Timber Town. + + +"I never heard the like of it!" exclaimed Mr. Crewe. "You say, +eighty-two ounces of gold? You say it came from within fifty miles +of Timber Town? Why, sir, the matter must be looked into." The old +gentleman's voice rose to a shrill treble. "Yes, indeed, it _must_." + +They were sitting in the Timber Town Club: the ancient Mr. Crewe, +Scarlett, and Cathro, a little man who rejoiced in the company of the +rich octogenarian. + +"I'm new at this sort of thing," said Scarlett: "I've just come off +the sea. But when the digger took a big bit of gold from his pocket, I +looked at it, open-eyed--I can tell you that. I called the landlord, and +ordered drinks--I thought that the right thing to do. And, by George! it +was. The ruffianly-looking digger drank his beer, insisted on calling +for more, and then locked the door." + +Mr. Crewe was watching the speaker closely, and hung on every word he +uttered. Glancing at the lean and wizened Cathro, he said, "You hear +that, Cathro? He locked the door, sir. Did you ever hear the like?" + +"From inside his shirt," Scarlett continued, "he drew a fat bundle of +bank notes, which he placed upon the table. Taking a crisp one-pound +note from the pile, he folded it into a paper-light, and said, 'I could +light my pipe with this an' never feel it.' + +"'Don't think of such a thing,' I said, and placed a sovereign on the +table, 'I'll toss you for it.' + +"'Right!' said my hairy friend. 'Sudden death?' + +"'Sudden death,' I said. + +"'Heads,' said he." + +"Think of that, now!" exclaimed Mr. Crewe. "The true digger, Cathro, the +true digger, I know the _genus_--there's no mistaking it. Most +interesting. Go on, sir." + +"The coin came down tails, and I pocketed the bank-note. + +"'Lookyer here, mate,' said my affluent friend. 'That don't matter. +We'll see if I can't get it back,' and he put another note on the table. +I won that, too. He doubled the stakes, and still I won. + +"'You had luck on the gold-fields,' I said, 'but when you come to town +things go dead against you.' + +"'Luck!' he cried. 'Now watch me. If I lost the whole of thisyer +bloomin' pile, I could start off to-morrer mornin' an, before nightfall, +I'd be on ground where a week's work would give me back all I'd lost. +An' never a soul in this blank, blank town knows where the claim is.'" + +"Well, well," gasped old Mr. Crewe; his body bent forward, and his eyes +peering into Scarlett's face. "I've lived here since the settlement was +founded. I got here when the people lived in nothing better than Maori +_whares_ and tents, when the ground on which this very club stands +was a flax-swamp. I have seen this town grow, sir, from a camp to the +principal town of a province. I know every man and boy living in it, do +I not, Cathro? I know every hill and creek within fifty miles of it; +I've explored every part of the bush, and I tell you I never saw payable +gold in any stream nearer than Maori Gully, to reach which you must go +by sea." + +"What about the man's mates?" asked Cathro. + +"I asked him about them," replied Scarlett. "I said, 'You have partners +in this thing, I suppose.' 'You mean pals,' he said. 'No, sir. I'm a +hatter--no one knows the place but me. I'm sole possessor of hundreds of +thousands of ounces of gold. There's my Miner's Right.' He threw a dirty +parchment document on the table, drawn out in the name of William +Wurcott." + +"Wurcott? Wurcott?" repeated Mr. Crewe, contemplatively. "I don't know +the name. The man doesn't belong to Timber Town." + +"You speak as though you thought no one but a Timber Town man should get +these good things." Cathro smiled as he spoke. + +"No, sir," retorted the old gentleman, testily. "I said no such thing, +sir. I simply said he did not belong to this town. But you must agree +with me, it's a precious strange thing that we men of this place have +for years been searching the country round here for gold, and, by +Jupiter! a stranger, an outsider, a mere interloper, a miserable +'hatter' from God knows where, discovers gold two days' journey from the +town, and brings in over eighty ounces?" The old man's voice ran up to a +falsetto, he stroked his nose with his forefinger and thumb, he broke +into the shrill laugh of an octogenarian. "And the rascal boasts he can +get a hundred ounces more in a week or two! We must look into the +matter--we must see what it means." + +The three men smoked silently and solemnly. + +"Scarlett, here, owns the man's personal acquaintance," said Cathro. +"The game is to go mates with him--Scarlett, the 'hatter,' and myself." + +All three of them sat silent, and thought hard. + +"But what if your 'hatter' won't fraternize?" asked Mr. Crewe. "You +young men are naturally sanguine, but I know these diggers. They may be +communicative enough over a glass, but next day the rack and thumbscrews +wouldn't extract a syllable from them." + +"All the more reason why we should go, and see the digger what +time Scarlett deems him to be happy in his cups." This was Cathro's +suggestion, and he added, "If he won't take us as mates, we may at least +learn the locality of his discovery. With your knowledge of the country, +Mr. Crewe, the rest should be easy." + +"It all sounds very simple," replied the venerable gentleman, "but +experience has taught me that big stakes are not won quite so easily. +However, we shall see. When our friend, Scarlett, is ready, _we_ are +ready; and when I say I take up a matter of this kind, you know I mean +to go through with it, even if I have to visit the spot myself and +prospect on my own account. For believe me, gentlemen, this may be the +biggest event in the history of Timber Town." Mr. Crewe had risen to +his feet, and was walking to and fro in front of the younger men. "If +payable gold were found in these hills, this town would double its +population in three months, business would flourish, and everybody would +have his pockets lined with gold. I don't talk apocryphally. I have seen +such things repeatedly, upon the Coast. I have seen small townships +literally flooded with gold, and yet a pair of boots, a tweed coat, and +the commonest necessaries of life, could not be procured there for love +or money." + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +Cut-throat Euchre. + + +"Give the stranger time to sort his cards," said the thin American, with +the close-cropped head. + +"Why, certainly, certainly," replied the big and bloated Englishman, who +sat opposite. "Well, my noble, what will you do?" + +The Prospector, who was the third player, looked up from his "hand" and +drummed the table with the ends of his dirty fingers. + +"What do I make it? Why, I turn it down." + +"Pass again," said the American. + +"Ditto," said the Englishman. + +"Then this time I make it 'Spades,'" said the digger, bearded to the +eyes; his tangled thatch of black hair hiding his forehead, and his +clothes such as would have hardly tempted a rag-picker. + +"You make it 'next,' eh?" It was the Englishman who spoke. + +"We'll put you through, siree," said the American, who was a small +man, without an atom of superfluous flesh on his bones. His hair stood +upright on his head, his dough-coloured face wore a perpetual smile, and +he was the happy possessor of a gold eye-tooth with which he constantly +bit his moustache. The player who had come to aid him in plucking the +pigeon was a big man with a florid complexion and heavy, sensuous +features, which, however, wore a good-natured expression. + +The game was cut-throat euchre; one pound points. So that each of the +three players contributed five pounds to the pool, which lay, gold, +silver and bank-notes, in a tempting pile in the middle of the table. + +"Left Bower, gen'lemen," said the digger, placing the Knave of Clubs on +the table. + +"The deuce!" exclaimed the florid man. + +"Can't help you, partner," said the man with the gold tooth, playing a +low card. + +"One trick," said the digger, and he put down the Knave of Spades. +"There's his mate." + +"Right Bower, egad!" exclaimed the big man, who was evidently minus +trumps. + +The pasty-faced American played the Ace of Spades without saying a word. + +"A blanky march!" cried the digger. "Look-a-here. How's that for high?" +and he placed on the table his three remaining cards--the King, Queen, +and ten of trumps. + +The other players showed their hands, which were full of red cards. + +"Up, and one to spare," exclaimed the digger, and took the pool. + +About fifty pounds, divided into three unequal piles, lay on the table, +and beside each player's money stood a glass. + +The florid man was shuffling the pack, and the other two were arranging +their marking cards, when the door opened slowly, and the Father of +Timber Town, followed by Cathro and Scarlett, entered the room. + +"Well, well. Hard at it, eh, Garsett?" said the genial old gentleman, +addressing himself to the Englishman. "Cut-throat euchre, by Jupiter! A +ruinous game, Mr. Lichfield,"--to the man with the gold tooth--"but your +opponent"--pointing with his stick to the digger--"seems to have all the +luck. Look at his pile, Cathro. Your digger friend, eh, Scarlett? Look +at his pile--the man's winning." + +Scarlett nodded. + +"He's in luck again," said Mr. Crewe; "in luck again, by all that's +mighty." + +The pool was made up, the cards were dealt, and the game continued. The +nine of Hearts was the "turn-up" card. + +"Pass," said Lichfield. + +"Then I order you up," said the digger. + +The burly Garsett drew a card from his "hand," placed it under the pack, +and said, "Go ahead. Hearts are trumps." + +The gentleman with the gold tooth played the King of Hearts, the digger +a small trump, and Garsett his turn-up card. + +"Ace of Spades," said Lichfield, playing that card. + +"Trump," said the digger, as he put down the Queen of Hearts. + +"Ace of trumps!" exclaimed Garsett, and took the trick. + +"'Strewth!" cried the man from the "bush." "But let's see your next." + +"You haven't a hope," said the big gambler. "Two to one in notes we +euchre you." + +"Done," replied the digger, and he took a dirty one-pound bank-note from +his heap of money. + +"Most exciting," exclaimed Mr. Crewe. "Quite spirited. The trumps must +all be out, Cathro. Let us see what all this betting means." + +"Right Bower," said the Englishman. + +"Ho-ho! stranger," the American cried. "I guess that pound belongs to +Mr. Garsett." + +The digger put the Knave of Diamonds on the table, and handed the money +to his florid antagonist. + +"Your friend is set back two points, Scarlett." It was Mr. Crewe that +spoke. "England and America divide the pool." + +The digger looked up at the Father of Timber Town. + +"If you gen'l'men wish to bet on the game, well and good," he said, +somewhat heatedly. "But if you're not game to back your opinion, then +keep your blanky mouths shut!" + +Old Mr. Crewe was as nettled at this unlooked-for attack as if a battery +of artillery had suddenly opened upon him. + +"Heh! What?" he exclaimed. "You hear that, Cathro? Scarlett, you hear +what your friend says? He wants to bet on the game, and that after being +euchred and losing his pound to Mr. Garsett. Why, certainly, sir. I'll +back my opinion with the greatest pleasure. I'll stake a five-pound note +on it. You'll lose this game, sir." + +"Done," said the digger, and he counted out five sovereigns and placed +them in a little heap by themselves. + +Mr. Crewe had not come prepared for a "night out with the boys." He +found some silver in his pocket and two pounds in his sovereign-case. + +"Hah! no matter," he said. "Cathro, call the landlord. I take your bet, +sir"--to the digger--"most certainly I take it, but one minute, give me +one minute." + +"If there's any difficulty in raising the cash," said the digger, +fingering his pile of money, "I won't press the matter. _I_ don't want +your blanky coin. I can easy do without it." + +The portly, rubicund landlord of the Lucky Digger entered the room. + +"Ah, Townson," said old Mr. Crewe, "good evening. We have a little bet +on, Townson, a little bet between this gentleman from away back and +myself, and I find I'm without the necessary cash. I want five pounds. +I'll give you my IOU." + +"Not at all," replied the landlord, in a small high voice, totally +surprising as issuing from such a portly person, "no IOU. I'll gladly +let you have twenty." + +"Five is all I want, Townson; and I expect to double it immediately, and +then I shall be quite in funds." + +The landlord disappeared and came back with a small tray, on which was a +bundle of bank-notes, some dirty, some clean and crisp. The Father of +Timber Town counted the money. "Twenty pounds, Townson. Very well. You +shall have it in the morning. Remind me, Cathro, that I owe Mr. Townson +twenty pounds." + +The digger looked with surprise at the man who could conjure money from +a publican. + +"Who in Hades are _you_?" he asked, as Mr. Crewe placed his L5 beside +the digger's. "D'you own the blanky pub?" + +"No, he owns the town," interposed Garsett. + +The digger was upon his feet in a moment. + +"Proud to meet you, mister," he cried. "Glad to have this bet with you. +I like to bet with a gen'l'man. Make it ten, sir, and I shall be happier +still." + +"No, no," replied the ancient Mr. Crewe. "You said five, and five it +shall be. That's quite enough for you to lose on one game." + +"You think so? That's your blanky opinion? See that?" The digger pointed +to his heap of money. "Where that come from there's enough to buy your +tin-pot town three times over." + +"Indeed," said Mr. Crewe. "I'm glad to hear it. Bring your money, and +you shall have the town." + +"Order, gentlemen, order," cried the dough-faced man. "I guess we're +here to play cards, and cards we're going to play. If you three +gentlemen cann't watch the game peaceably, it'll be my disagreeable duty +to fire you out--and that right smart." + +And just at this interesting moment entered Gentle Annie. She walked +with little steps; propelling her plenitude silently but for the rustle +of her silk skirt. In her hand she held a scented handkerchief, like any +lady in a drawing-room; her hair, black at the roots and auburn at the +ends, was wreathed, coil on coil, upon the top of her head; her +face, which gave away all her secrets, was saucy, expressive of +self-satisfaction, petulance, and vanity. And yet it was a handsome +face; but it lacked mobility, the chin was too strong, the grey eyes +wanted expression, though they were ever on the watch for an admiring +glance. + +"The angel has come to pour oil upon the troubled waters," said the +flabby, florid man, looking up from his cards at the splendid bar-maid. + +Gentle Annie regarded the speaker boldly, smiled, and coloured with +pleasure. + +"To pour whisky down your throats," she said, laughing--"that would be +nearer the mark." + +"And produce a more pleasing effect," said Garsett. + +"Attend to the game," said the American. "Spades are trumps." + +"Pass," said the digger. + +"Then down she goes," said the Englishman. + +"Pass again," said the American. + +"I make it Diamonds, and cross the blanky suit," said the digger. + +Gentle Annie turned to the Father of Timber Town. + +"There's a gentleman wants to see you, Mr. Crewe," she said. + +"Very good, very good; bring him in--he has as much right here as I." + +"He said he'd wait for you in the bar-parlour." + +"But, my girl, I must watch the game: I have a five-pound note on it. +Yes, a five-pound note!" + +"Think of that, now," said Gentle Annie, running her bejewelled hand +over her face. "You'll be bankrupt before morning. But never mind, old +gentleman,"--she deftly corrected the set of Mr. Crewe's coat, and +fastened its top button--"you'll always find a friend and protector in +_me_." + +"My good girl, what a future! The tender mercies of bar-maids are cruel. +'The daughter of the horse-leech'--he! he!--where did you get all those +rings from?--I don't often quote Scripture, but I find it knows all +about women. Cathro, you must watch the game for me: I have to see a +party in the bar. Watch the game, Cathro, watch the game." + +The old gentleman, leaning heavily upon his stick, walked slowly to the +door, and Gentle Annie, humming a tune, walked briskly before, in all +the glory of exuberant health and youth. + +When Mr. Crewe entered the bar-parlour he was confronted by the bulky +figure of Benjamin Tresco, who was enjoying a glass of beer and the last +issue of _The Pioneer Bushman_. Between the goldsmith's lips was +the amber mouthpiece of a straight-stemmed briar pipe, a smile of +contentment played over the breadth of his ruddy countenance, and his +ejaculations were made under some deep and pleasurable excitement. + +"By the living hokey! What times, eh?" He slapped his thigh with +his heavy hand. "The town won't know itself! We'll all be bloomin' +millionaires. Ah! good evening, Mr. Crewe. Auspicious occasion. Happy +to meet you, sir." Benjamin had risen, and was motioning the Father of +Timber Town to a seat upon the couch, where he himself had been sitting. +"You will perceive that I am enjoying a light refresher. Have something +yourself at my expense, I beg." + +Mr. Crewe's manner was very stiff. He knew Tresco well. It was not so +much that he resented the goldsmith's familiar manner, as that, with +the instinct of his _genus_, he suspected the unfolding of some +money-making scheme for which he was to find the capital. Therefore +he fairly bristled with caution. + +"Thank you, nothing." He spoke with great dignity. "You sent for me. +What do you wish to say, sir?" + +Benjamin looked at the rich man through his spectacles, without which he +found it impossible to read the masterpieces of the editor of _The +Pioneer Bushman_; pursed his lips, to indicate that he hardly relished +the old gentleman's manner; scrutinised the columns of the newspaper for +a desired paragraph, on which, when found, he placed a substantial +forefinger; and then, glancing at Mr. Crewe, he said abruptly, "Read +that, boss," and puffed furiously at his pipe, while he watched the old +man's face through a thick cloud of tobacco smoke. + +Mr. Crewe read the paragraph; folded up the paper, and placed it on the +couch beside him; looked at the ceiling; glanced round the room; turned +his keen eyes on Tresco, and said:-- + +"Well, what of that? I saw that an hour ago. It's very fine, if true; +very fine, indeed." + +"True, mister? _I_ bought the gold _myself_! _I_ gave the information to +the 'buster'! Now, here is my plan. I know this gold is _new_ gold--it's +no relation to any gold I ever bought before. It comes from a virgin +field. By the special knowledge I possess as a gold-buyer, I am able to +say that; and you know when a virgin field yields readily as much as +eighty-two ounces, the odds are in favour of it yielding thousands. Look +at the Golden Bar. You remember that?--eight thousand ounces in two +days, and the field's been worked ever since. Then there was Greenstone +Gully--a man came into town with fifty ounces, and the party that +tracked him made two thousand ounces within a month. Those finds were at +a distance, but this one is a local affair. How do I know?--my special +knowledge, mister; my intuitive reading of signs which prognosticate +coming events; my knowledge of the characters and ways of diggers. All +this I am willing to place at your disposal, on one condition, Mr. +Crewe; and that condition is that we are partners in the speculation. I +find the field--otherwise the partnership lapses--and you find me L200 +and the little capital required. I engage to do my part within a week." + +Mr. Crewe stroked his nose with his forefinger and thumb, as was his +habit when in deep contemplation. + +"But--ah--what if I were to tell you that I can find the field entirely +by my own exertions? What do you say to that, Mr. Tresco? What do you +say to that?" + +"I say, sir, without the least hesitation, that you _never_ will find +it. I say that you will spend money and valuable time in a wild-goose +chase, whereas _I_ shall be entirely successful." + +"We shall see," said Mr. Crewe, rising from his seat, "we shall see. +Don't try to coerce me, sir; don't try to coerce _me_!" + +"I haven't the least desire in that direction." Benjamin's face assumed +the expression of a cherub. "Nothing is further from my thoughts. I know +of a good thing--my special knowledge qualifies me to make the most +of it; I offer you the refusal of 'chipping in' with me, and you, I +understand, refuse. Very well, Mr. Crewe, _I_ am satisfied; _you_ are +satisfied; all is amicably settled. I go to place my offer where it will +be accepted. Good evening, sir." + +Benjamin put his nondescript, weather-worn hat on his semi-bald head, +and departed with as much dignity as his ponderous person could assume. + +"And now," said Mr. Crewe to himself, as the departing figure of the +goldsmith disappeared, "we will go and see the result of our little bet; +we will see whether we have lost or gained the sum of five pounds." + +The old man, taking his stick firmly in his hand, stumped down the +passage to the door of the room where the gamblers played, and, as he +turned the handle, he was greeted with a torrent of shouts, high words, +and the noise of a falling table. + +There, on the floor, lay gold and bank notes, scattered in every +direction amid broken chairs, playing cards, and struggling men. + +Mr. Crewe paused on the threshold. In the whirl and dust of the tumult +he could discern the digger's wilderness of hair, the bulky form of +Garsett, and the thin American, in a tangled, writhing mass. His friend +Cathro was looking on with open mouth and trembling hands, ineffectual, +inactive. But Scarlett, making a sudden rush into the melee, seized the +lucky digger, and dragged him, infuriated, struggling, swearing, from +the unwieldy Garsett, on whose throat his grimy fingers were tightly +fixed. + +"Well, well," exclaimed Mr. Crewe. "Landlord! landlord! Scarlett, be +careful--you'll strangle that man!" + +Scarlett pinioned the digger's arms from behind, and rendered him +harmless; Garsett sat on the floor fingering his throat, and gasping; +while Lichfield lay unconscious, with his head under the broken table. + +"Fair play!" shouted the digger. "I've bin robbed. Le'me get at him. +I'll break his blanky neck. Cheat a gen'leman at cards, will you? Le'me +get at him. Le'go, I tell yer--who's quarrelling with _you_?" But he +struggled in vain, for Scarlett's hold on him was tighter than a vice's. + +"Stand quiet, man," he expostulated. "There was no cheating." + +"The fat bloke fudged a card. I was pickin' up a quid from the floor--he +fudged a card. Le'go o' me, an' I'll fight you fair." + +"Stand quiet, I tell you, or you'll be handed over to the police." + +The digger turned his hairy visage round, and glanced angrily into +Jack's eyes. + +"You'll call in the traps?--you long-legged swine!" With a mighty +back-kick, the Prospector lodged the heel of his heavy boot fairly on +Scarlett's shin. In a moment he had struggled free, and faced round. + +"Put up your fists!" he cried. "I fight fair, I fight fair." + +There was a whirlwind of blows, and then a figure fell to the floor with +a thud like that of a felled tree. It was the lucky digger, and he lay +still and quiet amid the wreckage of the fight. + +"Here," said Cathro, handing Mr. Crewe ten pounds. "Take your money--our +friend the digger lost the game." + +"This is most unfortunate, Cathro." But as he spoke, the Father of +Timber Town pocketed the gold. "Did I not see Scarlett knock that man +down? This is extremely unfortunate. I have just refused the offer of +a man who avers--who avers, mind you--that he can put us on this new +gold-field in a week, but I trusted to Scarlett's diplomacy with the +digger: I come back, and what do I see? I see my friend Scarlett knock +the man down! There he lies as insensible as a log." + +"It looks," said Cathro, "as if our little plan had fallen through." + +"Fallen through? We have made the unhappy error of interfering in a game +of cards. We should have stood off, sir, and when a quarrel arose--I +know these diggers; I have been one of them myself, and I understand +them, Cathro--when a quarrel arose we should have interposed on behalf +of the digger, and he would have been our friend for ever. Now all the +gold in the country wouldn't bribe him to have dealings with us." + +The noise of the fight had brought upon the scene all the occupants of +the bar. They stood in a group, silent and expectant, just inside the +room. The landlord, who was with them, came forward, and bent over the +inanimate form of the Prospector. "I think this is likely to be a case +for the police," said he, as he rose, and stood erect. "The man may be +alive, or he may be dead--I'm not a doctor: I can't tell--but there's +likely to be trouble in store for the gentlemen in the room at the time +of the fight." + +Suddenly an energetic figure pushed its way through the group of +spectators, and Benjamin Tresco, wearing an air of supreme wisdom, and +with a manner which would not have disgraced a medico celebrated for his +"good bedside manner," commenced to examine the prostrate man. First, he +unbuttoned the insensible digger's waistcoat, and placed his hand over +his heart; next, he felt his pulse. "This man," he said deliberately, +like an oracle, "has been grossly manhandled; he is seriously injured, +but with care we shall pull him round. My dear"--to Gentle Annie, who +stood at his elbow, in her silks and jewels, the personification of +Folly at a funeral--"a drop of your very best brandy--real cognac, mind +you, and be as quick as you possibly can." + +With the help of Scarlett, Tresco placed the digger upon the couch. In +the midst of this operation the big card-player and his attenuated +accomplice, whose unconsciousness had been more feigned than actual, +were about to slip from the room, when Mr. Crewe's voice was heard +loudly above the chatter, "Stop! stop those men, there!" The old +gentleman's stick was pointed dramatically towards the retreating +figures. "They know more about this affair than is good for them." + +Four or five men immediately seized Garsett and Lichfield, led them back +to the centre of the room, and stood guard over them. + +At this moment, Gentle Annie re-entered with the _eau de vie_; and +Tresco, who was bustling importantly about his patient, administrated +the restorative dexterously to the unconscious digger, and then awaited +results. He stood, with one hand on the man's forehead and the other he +held free to gesticulate with, in emphasis of his speech:-- + +"This gentleman is going to recover--with proper care, and in skilled +hands. He has received a severe contusion on the cranium, but apart from +that he is not much the worse for his 'scrap.' See, he opens his eyes. +Ah! they are closed again. There!--they open again. He is coming round. +In a few minutes he will be his old, breathing, pulsating self. The +least that can be expected in the circumstances, is that the gentlemen +implicated, who have thus been saved most disagreeable consequences by +the timely interference of skilled hands, the least they can do is to +shout drinks for the crowd." + +He paused, and a seraphic smile lighted his broad face. + +"Hear, hear!" cried a voice from behind the spectators by the door. + +"Just what the doctor ordered," said another. + +"There's enough money on the floor," remarked a third, "for the whole +lot of us to swim in champagne." + +"My eye's on it," said Tresco. "It's what gave me my inspiration. The +lady will pick it up while you name your drinks to the landlord. Mine's +this liqueur brandy, neat. Let the lady pick up those notes there: a +lady has a soul above suspicion--let her collect the money, and we'll +hold a court of enquiry when this gentleman here is able to give his +evidence." + +The digger was now gazing in a befogged manner at the faces around him; +and Gentle Annie, having collected all the money of the gamblers in a +tray, placed it on the small table which stood against the wall. + +"Now, doctor," said a tall man with a tawny beard, "take your fee; it's +you restored the gent. Take your fee: is it two guineas, or do you make +it five?" + +"'Doctor,' did you say? No, Moonlight, my respected friend, I scorn the +title. Doctors are a brood that batten on the ills of others. First day: +'A pain internally, madam? Very serious. I will send you some medicine. +Two guineas. Yes, the sum of two guineas.' Next day: 'Ah, the pain is no +better, madam? Go on taking the medicine. Fee? Two guineas, _if_ you +please.' And so on till the pain cures itself. If not, the patient grows +worse, dies, is buried, and the doctor's fees accrue proportionately. +But we will suppose that the patient has some incurable tumour. The +doctor comes, examines, looks wise, shakes his head, says the only +chance is to operate; but it will be touch and go, just a toss up. He +gets his knives, opens up the patient, and by good luck touches no vital +part. Then the patient is saved, and it's 'My work, gentlemen, entirely +my work. That's what skill will do. My fee is forty-five guineas.' +That's how he makes up for the folks that don't pay. Doctor, _me_? No, +Moonlight, my friend, I am a practitioner who treats for love. No fee; +no fee at all. But, Annie, my dear, I'll trouble you for that glass of +brandy." + +The digger was contemplating Tresco's face with a look of bewildered +astonishment. "An' who the blanky blank are _you_?" he exclaimed, with +all his native uncouthness. "What the blank do you want to take my +clo'es off of me for? Who the blue infernal----" All eyes were fixed on +his contused countenance and the enormous bump on his temple. "Ah! +there's the gent that shook me of five quid. I'll remember you, old +party. An' as for you two spielers--you thought to fleece me. I'll give +you what for! An' there's the other toff, 'im that biffed me. Fancy +bein' flattened out by a toney remittance man! Wonderful. I call it +British pluck, real bull-dog courage--three to one, an' me the littlest +of the lot, bar one. Oh, it's grand. It pays a man to keep his mouth +shut, when he comes to Timber Town with money in his pocket." + +The eyes of the spectators began to turn angrily upon Lichfield and +Garsett, who, looking guilty as thieves, stood uneasy and apart; but +Scarlett stepped forward, and was about to speak in self-defence, when +Mr. Crewe offered to explain the situation. + +"I ask you to listen to me for one moment," he said; "I ask you to take +my explanation as that of a disinterested party, a mere looker on. These +three gentlemen"--he pointed to the three euchre players--"were having a +game of cards, quite a friendly game of cards, in which a considerable +sum of money was changing hands. My friend Scarlett, here, was looking +on with me, when for some cause a quarrel arose. Next thing, the +gentleman here on the sofa was attacking his opponents in the game with +an empty bottle--you can see the pieces of broken glass amongst the +cards upon the floor. Now, a bottle is a very dangerous weapon, a very +dangerous weapon indeed; I might say a deadly weapon. Then it was that +Mr. Scarlett interfered. He pulled off our friend, and was attacked--I +saw this with my own eyes--attacked violently, and in self-defence he +struck this gentleman, and inadvertently stunned him. That, I assure +you, is exactly how the case stands. No great damage is done. The +difference is settled, and, of course, the game is over." + +"An' '_e_," said the digger, raising himself to a sitting posture, "'_e_ +shook me for five quid. The wily ol'e serpint. 'E never done nothin'--'e +only shook me for five quid." + +"Count the money into three equal parts, landlord," said the Father of +Timber Town. "It's perfectly true, I _did_ relieve the gentleman of five +pounds; but it was the result of a bet, of a bet he himself insisted on. +He would have made it even heavier, had I allowed him. But here is the +money--he can have it back. I return it. I bet with no man who begrudges +to pay money he fairly loses; but I have no further dealings with such a +man." + +"Oh, you think I want the blanky money, do you?" cried the digger. +"You're the ol'e gen'leman as is said to own the crimson town, ain't +you? Well, keep that five quid, an' 'elp to paint it crimsoner. _I_ +don't want the money. _I_ can get plenty more where it came from, just +for the pickin' of it up. You keep it, ol'e feller, an' by an' by I'll +come and buy the town clean over your head." + +"Give the patient some more brandy, my dear." Tresco's voice sounded as +sonorous as a parson's. "Now he's talkin'. And what will you do with the +town when you've bought it, my enterprising friend?" + +"I'll turn the present crowd out--they're too mean to live. I'll sell it +to a set of Chinamen, or niggers. I'd prefer 'em." + +"These are the ravings of delirium," said Tresco. "I ask you to pay no +attention to such expressions. We frequently hear things of this sort in +the profession, but we let them pass. He'll be better in the morning." + +"Is the money divided?" asked Mr. Crewe. + +"Yes," said the landlord. "One hundred and twenty-five pounds and +sixpence in each lot." + +"Mr. Garsett," said the Father of Timber Town, the tone of command in +his voice, "come and take your money. Mr. Lichfield, take yours, sir." + +Still agitated and confused, the two gamblers came forward, took their +shares, and pocketed notes and gold with trembling hands. + +"Give your friend his, Tresco," said the venerable arbitrator. + +"Here's your winnings, or your losings," said the goldsmith to the +digger. "It don't matter what name you call 'em by, but tuck it safely +away agin your brisket. And when next you strike it rich, take my +advice: put it in the bank, an' keep it there." + +The digger took the money in his open hands, placed scoopwise together, +and said, "All this mine, is it? You're too kind. What do _I_ want the +blanky money for, eh? Didn't I tell you I could get money for the +pickin' of it up? Well, you're all a pretty measly crowd, all as poor as +church rats, by the manners of yer. Well, _you_ pick it up." And he +flung the money among the crowd, lay back on the couch, and closed his +eyes. + +There was a scurry, and a scrambling on the floor, in the doorway, and +in the passage outside. + +Amid the tumult, Garsett and the American slunk off unperceived, while +Tresco and Mr. Crewe, the landlord, Gentle Annie and Scarlett remained +spectators of the scene. + +Soon all was hushed and still, and they were left alone with the +eccentric digger; but presently the tall figure of Moonlight, the man +with the tawny beard, reappeared. + +"Here's fifty pound, anyway," he said, placing a quantity of notes and +gold in the landlord's hands. "Some I picked up myself, some I took off +a blackguard I knocked over in the passage. Take the lot, and give it +back to this semi-lunatic when he suffers his recovery in the morning. +Good-night, gentlemen; I wish you the pleasures of the evening." So +saying, the man with the tawny beard disappeared, and it was not long +before Tresco was left alone with his patient. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +The Yellow Flag. + + +The harbour of Timber Town was formed by a low-lying island shaped like +a long lizard, which stretched itself across an indentation in the +coast-line, and the tail of which joined the mainland at low tide, +while the channel between its head and the opposing cliffs was deep, +practicable, and safe. + +Immediately opposite this end of the island the wharves and quays of +Timber Town stretched along the shore, backed by hills which were dotted +with painted wooden houses, nestling amid bowers of trees. Beyond these +hills lay Timber Town itself, invisible, sheltered, at the bottom of its +basin. + +The day was hot, clear and still; the water lapped the shore lazily, and +the refracted atmosphere shimmered with heat, wherever the sea touched +the land. + +A little dingey put off from the shore. It contained two men, one of +whom sat in the stern while the other pulled. Silently over the surface +of the calm, blue water the little craft skimmed. It passed through a +small fleet of yachts and pleasure-boats moored under the lee of the +protecting island, and presently touched the pebbles of a miniature +beach. + +Out stepped the Pilot of Timber Town and Captain Sartoris. + +"An' you call this blazin' climate o' yours temperate," exclaimed the +shipwrecked mariner. + +"Heat?" said the Pilot, making the painter of the boat fast to some +rusty bits of iron that lay on the shore; "you call this heat, with the +sea-breeze risin', and the island cooling like a bottle of champagne in +an ice-chest. It's plain to see, Sartoris, you're a packet-rat that +never sailed nowhere except across the Western Ocean, in an' out o' +Liverpool and New York." They had approached the end of the island, and +overlooked the harbour entrance. "Now, this is where I intend to place +the beacon. What do you think of it?" Sartoris assumed the manner and +expression of supreme interest, but said nothing. "Them two leading +lights are all very well in their way, but this beacon, with the near +one, will give a line that will take you outside o' that sunken reef +which stretches a'most into the fairway; and a vessel 'll be able to +come in, scientific and safe, just like a lady into a drawing-room." + +With a seaman's eye Sartoris took in the situation at a glance. "Very +pretty," he said, "very neat. A lovely little toy port, such as you see +at the theayter. It only wants the chorus o' fisher girls warbling on +that there beach road, and the pirate brig bringing-to just opposite, +an' the thing would be complete." + +"Eh! What?" ejaculated the Pilot. "What's this play-goin' gammon? You +talk like a schoolboy that's fed on jam tarts and novelettes, Sartoris. +Let's talk sense. Have you ever heard of an occulting light?" + +"No, certainly not; not by that name, anyhow." + +"D'you know what an apparent light is?" + +"No, but I know plenty of apparent fools." + +"An apparent light is a most ingenious contraption." + +"I've no doubt." + +"It's a optical delusion, and makes two lights o' one--one on shore, +which is the real one, and one here, which is the deception." But while +the Pilot went on to talk of base plates, lewis bats, and all the +paraphernalia of his craft, the skipper's eye was fixed on a string of +little islands which stood off the end of the western arm of the great +bay outside. + +"Now, I never saw those when I was coming in," said he. "Where did you +get them islands from, Summerhayes? Are they occulting, real, or +apparent? Changing your landmarks, like this, is deceiving." + +The Pilot, forgetting the technicalities of his profession, looked at +the phenomenon which puzzled the skipper, and said, as gruffly as a +bear, "That's no islands: it's but a bit of a mirage. Sometimes there's +only one island, sometimes three, sometimes more--it's accordin' to +circumstances. But what's this craft coming down the bay? Barque or +ship, Sartoris?--I've forgot me glass." + +Both men stood on the seaward edge of the island, and looked long and +hard at the approaching vessel. + +"Barque," said Sartoris, whose eyes were keener than the older man's. + +"There's no barque due at this port for a month," said the Pilot. "The +consignees keep me posted up, for to encourage a sharp lookout. The _Ida +Bell_ should arrive from London towards the middle of next month, but +_she_ is a ship. This must be a stranger, putting in for water or +stores; or maybe she's short-handed." + +For a long time they watched the big craft, sailing before the breeze. + +"Sartoris, she's clewing up her courses and pulling down her +head-sails." + +"Isn't she a trifle far out, Pilot?" + +"It's good holding-ground out there--stiff clay that would hold +anything. What did I tell you?--there you are--coming-to. She's got +starn-board. There goes the anchor!" + +The skipper had hitherto displayed but little interest in the strange +vessel, but now he was shouting and gesticulating, as a flag was run up +to her fore-truck. + +"Look at that, Summerhayes!" he exclaimed. "If you ain't blind, tell me +what that flag is. Sure as I'm a master without a ship, it's the +currantine flag." + +"So it is, so it is. That means the Health Officer, Sartoris." And the +gruff old Pilot hastened down to the dingey. + +As the two seamen put off from the island, the skipper, who was in the +stern of the little boat, could see Summerhayes's crew standing about on +the slip of the pilot-shed; and by the time the dingey had reached the +shore, the Pilot's big whale-boat lay by the landing-stage. + +"Where's the doctor?" roared Summerhayes. "Is he goin' to make us hunt +for him when he's required for the first time this six weeks?" + +"All right, all right," called a clear voice from inside the great shed. +"I'm ready before you are this time, Pilot." + +"An' well you are," growled the gruff old barnacle. "That +furrin'-lookin' barque outside has hoisted the yellow flag. Get aboard, +lads, get aboard." + +"Your men discovered the fact half an hour ago, by the aid of your +telescope." The doctor came slowly down the slip, carrying a leather +hand-bag. + +"If you've any mercy," said the Pilot, "you'll spare 'em the use o' +that. Men die fast enough without physic." + +"Next time you get the sciatica, Summerhayes, I'll give you a double +dose." + +"An' charge me a double fee. I know you. Shove her off, Johnson." + +The grim old Pilot stood with the steering-oar in his hand; the skipper +and the doctor sitting on either hand of him, and the crew pulling as +only a trained crew can. + +"Steady, men," said the Pilot: "it's only half tide, and there's plenty +of water coming in at the entrance. Keep your wind for that, +Hendricson." + +With one hand he unbuttoned the flap of his capacious trouser-pocket, +and took out a small bunch of keys, which he handed to Sartoris. + +"Examine the locker," he said. "It's the middle-sized key." The captain, +in a moment, had opened the padlock which fastened the locker under the +Pilot's seat. + +"Is there half-a-dozen of beer--quarts?" asked Summerhayes. + +"There is," replied Sartoris. + +"Two bottles of rum?" + +"Yes." + +"Glasses?" + +"Four." + +"An' a corkscrew?" + +"It's here." + +"Then we've just what the doctor ordered: not this doctor--make no +mistake o' that. An' them sons o' sea cooks, forrard there, haven't yet +found a duplicate key to my locker. Wonderful! wonderful!" + +The crew grinned, and put their backs into every stroke, for they knew +"the old man" meant that they shouldn't go dry. + +"I'm the Pilot o' this here port, eh?" + +"Most certainly," said the doctor. + +"An' Harbour Master, in a manner o' speaking?" + +"That's so." + +"And captain o' this here boat?" + +They were hugging the shore of the island, where the strength of the +incoming tide began to be felt in the narrow tortuous channel. The bluff +old Pilot put the steering-oar to port, and brought his boat round to +starboard, in order to keep her out of the strongest part of the +current. + +"Now, lads, shake her up!" he shouted. + +The men strained every nerve, and the boat was forced slowly against +the tide. With another sudden movement of the steering-oar Summerhayes +brought the boat into an eddy under the island, and she shot forward. + +"Very well," he said; "it's acknowledged that I'm all that--Pilot, +Harbour Master, and skipper o' this boat. Then let me tell you that I'm +ship's doctor as well, and in that capacity, since we're outside and +there's easy going now under sail, I prescribe a good stiff glass all +round, as a preventive against plague, Yellow Jack, small-pox, or +whatever disease it is they've got on yonder barque." + +Sartoris uncorked a bottle, and handed a glass to the doctor. + +"And a very good prescription, too," said the tall, thin medico, who had +a colourless complexion and eyes that glittered like black beads; "but +where's the water?" + +"Who drinks on my boat," growled the Pilot, "drinks his liquor neat. I +drown no man and no rum with water. If a man must needs spoil his +liquor, let him bring his own water: there's none in my locker." + +The doctor took the old seaman's medicine, but not without a wry face; +Sartoris followed suit, and then the Pilot. The boat was now under sail, +and the crew laid in their oars and "spliced the main brace." + +"That's the only medicine we favour in this boat or in this service," +said the Pilot, as he returned the key of the locker to his pocket, "an' +we've never yet found it to fail. Before encount'ring plague, or after +encount'ring dirty weather, a glass all round: at other times the locker +is kept securely fastened, and I keep the key." Saying which, he +buttoned the flap of his pocket, and fixed his eyes on the strange +barque, to which they were now drawing near. + +It could be seen that she was a long time "out"; her sails, not yet all +furled, were old and weather-worn; her sides badly needed paint; and as +she rose and fell with the swell, she showed barnacles and "grass" below +the water-line. At her mizzen-peak flew the American ensign, and at the +fore-truck the ominous quarantine flag. + +As the boat passed under the stern, the name of the vessel could be +seen--"_Fred P. Lincoln_, New York"--and a sickly brown man looked over +the side. Soon he was joined by more men, brown and yellow, who jabbered +like monkeys, but did nothing. + +"Seems they've got a menag'ry aboard," commented Sartoris. + +Presently a white face appeared at the side. + +"Where's the captain?" asked the Health Officer. + +"With the mate, who's dying." + +"Then who are you?" + +"Cap'n's servant." + +"But where's the other mate?" + +"He died a week ago." + +"What's wrong on board?" + +"Don't know, sir. Ten men are dead, and three are sick." + +"Where are you from?" + +"Canton." + +"Canton? Have you got plague aboard?" + +"Not bubonic. The men go off quiet and gradual, after being sick a long +time. I guess you'd better come aboard, and see for yourself." + +The ladder was put over the side, and soon the doctor had clambered on +board. + +The men in the boat sat quiet and full of contemplation. + +"This is a good time for a smoke," said the Pilot, filling his pipe and +passing his tobacco tin forrard. "And I think, Sartoris, all hands 'd be +none the worse for another dose o' my medicine." Again his capacious +hand went into his more capacious pocket, and the key of the locker was +handed to Sartoris. + +"Some foolish people are teetotal," continued Summerhayes, "and would +make a man believe as how every blessed drop o' grog he drinks shortens +his life by a day or a week, as the case may be. But give me a glass o' +liquor an' rob me of a month, rather than the plagues o' China strike me +dead to-morrer. Some folks have no more sense than barn-door fowls." + +A yellow man, more loquacious than his fellows, had attracted the +attention of Sartoris. + +"Heh! John. What's the name of your skipper?" + +The Chinaman's reply was unintelligible. "I can make nothing of him," +said Sartoris. But, just at that moment, the man who had described +himself as the captain's servant reappeared at the side of the ship. + +"My man," said Summerhayes, "who's your captain?" + +"Cap'n Starbruck." + +"Starbruck!" exclaimed Sartoris. "I know him." In a moment he was +half-way up the ladder. + +"Hi! Sartoris," roared the Pilot. "If you go aboard that vessel, you'll +stay there till she's got a clean bill o' health." + +"I'm going to help my old shipmate," answered Sartoris from the top of +the ladder. "Turn and turn about, I says. He stood by me in the West +Indies, when I had Yellow Jack; and I stand by him now." As he spoke his +foot was on the main-rail. He jumped into the waist of the quarantined +barque, and was lost to sight. + +"Whew!" said the Pilot to the vessel's side. "Here's a man just saved +from shipwreck, and he must plunge into a fever-den in order to be +happy. I wash my hands of such foolishness. Let 'im go, let 'im go." + +The thin, neat doctor appeared, standing on the main-rail. He handed his +bag to one of the boat's crew, and slowly descended the ladder. + +"An' what have you done with Sartoris?" asked the Pilot. + +"He's aboard," replied the doctor, "and there he stops. That's all I can +say." + +"And what's the sickness?" + +"Ten men are dead, five more are down--two women, Chinese, and three +men. I should call it fever, a kind of barbiers or beri-beri. But in +the meanwhile, I'll take another drop of your excellent liquor." + +The doctor drank the Pilot's medicine in complete silence. + +"Let go that rope!" roared Summerhayes. "Shove her off. Up with your +sail." The trim boat shot towards the sunny port of Timber Town, and +Sartoris was left aboard the fever-ship. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +What Looked Like Courting. + + +On the terrace of the Pilot's house was a garden-seat, on which sat Rose +Summerhayes and Scarlett. + +Rose was looking at her dainty shoe, the point of which protruded from +beneath her skirt; while Scarlett's eyes were fixed on the magnificent +panorama of mountains which stretched north and south as far as he could +see. + +Behind the grass-covered foot-hills, at whose base crouched the little +town, there stood bolder and more rugged heights. In rear of these rose +the twin forest-clad tops of an enormous mountain mass, on either side +of which stretched pinnacled ranges covered with primeval "bush." + +Scarlett was counting hill and mountain summits. His enumeration had +reached twenty distinct heights, when, losing count, he turned to his +companion. + +"It's a lovely picture to have in front of your door," he said, "a +picture that never tires the eye." + +A break in the centre of the foot-hills suddenly attracted his +attention. It was the gorge through which a rippling, sparkling river +escaped from the mountain rampart and flowed through the town to the +tidal waters of the harbour. + +"That valley will take us into the heart of the hills," he said. "We +start to-morrow morning, soon after dawn--Moonlight and I. Do you know +him?" + +The girl looked up from her shoe, and smiled. "I can't cultivate the +acquaintance of every digger in the town," she replied. + +"Don't speak disparagingly of diggers. _I_ become one to-morrow." + +"Then, mind you bring me a big nugget when you come back," said the +girl. + +"That's asking me to command good luck. Give me that, and you shall have +the nugget." + +"Does luck go by a girl's favour? If it did, you would be sure to have +it." + +"I never had it on the voyage out, did I?" + +"Perhaps you never had the other either." + +"That's true--I left England through lack of it." + +"I shouldn't have guessed that. Perhaps you'll gain it in this country." + +Scarlett looked at her, but her eyes were again fixed on the point of +her shoe. + +"Well, Rosebud--flirting as usual?" Captain Summerhayes, clad in blue +serge, with his peaked cap on the back of his head, came labouring up +the path, and sat heavily on the garden-seat. "I never see such a +gal--always with the boys when she ought to be cooking the dinner." + +"Father!" exclaimed Rose, flushing red, though she well knew the form +that the Pilot's chaff usually took. "How _can_ you tell such fibs? You +forget that Mr. Scarlett is not one of the old cronies who understand +your fun." + +"There, there, my gal." The Pilot laid his great brown hand on his +daughter's shoulder. "Don't be ruffled. Let an old sailor have his joke: +it won't hurt, God bless us; it won't hurt more'n the buzzing of a +blue-bottle fly. But you're that prim and proper, that staid and +straight-laced, you make me tease you, just to rouse you up. Oh! them +calm ones, Mr. Scarlett, beware of 'em. It takes a lot to goad 'em to +it, but once their hair's on end, it's time a sailor went to sea, and a +landsman took to the bush. It's simply terrible. Them mild 'uns, Mr. +Scarlett, beware of 'em." + +"Father, do stop!" cried Rose, slapping the Pilot's broad back with her +soft, white hand. + +"All right," said her father, shrinking from her in mock dread; "stop +that hammerin'." + +"Tell us about the fever-ship, and what they're doing with Sartoris," +said Scarlett. + +"Lor', she's knocked the breath out of a man's body. I'm just in dread +o' me life. Sit t'other end o' the seat, gal; and do you, Mr. Scarlett, +sit in between us, and keep the peace. It's fearful, this livin' alone +with a dar'ter that thumps me." The old fellow chuckled internally, and +threatened to explode with suppressed merriment. "Some day I shall die +o' laffing," he said, as he pulled himself together. "But you was asking +about Sartoris." He had now got himself well in hand. "Sartoris is like +a pet monkey in a cage, along o' Chinamen, Malays, Seedee boys, and all +them sort of animals. Laff? You should ha' seen me standing up in the +boat, hollerin' at Sartoris, and laffin' so as I couldn't hardly keep me +feet. 'Sartoris,' I says, 'when do the animals feed?' An' he looks over +the rail, just like a stuffed owl in a glass case, and says nothing. I +took a bottle from the boat's locker, and held it up. 'What wouldn't you +give for a drop o' that!' I shouts. But he shook his fist, and said +something disrespectful about port wine; but I was that roused up with +the humour o' the thing, I laffed so as I had to set down. A prisoner +for full four weeks, or durin' the pleasure o' the Health Officer, +that's Sartoris. Lord! _what_ a trap to be caught in." + +"But what's the disease they've on board?" asked Scarlett. + +"That's where it is," replied the Pilot--"nobody seems to know. The +Health Officer he says one thing, and then, first one medical and then +another must put his oar in, and say it's something else--dengey fever, +break-bone, spirrilum fever, beri-beri, or anything you like. One doctor +says the ship shouldn't ha' bin currantined, and another says she +should, and so they go on quarrelling like a lot o' cats in a sack." + +"But there have been deaths on board," said Rose. + +"Deaths, my dear? The first mate's gone, and more'n half the piebald +crew. This morning we buried the Chinese cook. You won't see Sartoris, +not this month or more." + +"Mr. Scarlett is going into the bush, father. He's not likely to be back +till after the ship is out of quarantine." + +"Eh? What? Goin' bush-whacking? I thought you was town-bred. Well, well, +so you're goin' to help chop down trees." + +Scarlett smiled. "You've heard of this gold that's been found, Pilot?" + +"I see it in the paper." + +"I'm going to try if I can find where it comes from." + +"Lord love 'ee, but you've no luck, lad. This gold-finding is just a +matter o' luck, and luck goes by streaks. You're in a bad streak, just +at present; and you won't never find that gold till you're out o' that +streak. You can try, but you won't get it. You see, Sartoris is in the +same streak--no sooner does he get wrecked than he is shut up aboard +this fever-ship. And s'far as I can see, he'll get on no better till +he's out o' his streak too. You be careful how you go about for the +next six months or so, for as sure as you're born, if you put yourself +in the way of it, you'll have some worse misfortune than any you've yet +met with. Luck's like the tide--you can do nothing agin it; but when it +turns, you've got everything in your favour. Wait till the tide of your +luck turns, young man, before you attempt anything rash. That's my +advice, and I've seen proof of it in every quarter of the globe." + +"Father is full of all sorts of sailor-superstitions. He hates to take a +ship out of port on a Friday, and wouldn't kill an albatross for +anything." + +"We caught three on the voyage out," said Scarlett; "a Wandering +Albatross, after sighting the Cape of Good Hope, and two sooty ones near +the Campbell Islands. I kept the wing-bones, and would have given you +one for a pipe-stem, Captain, if the ship had reached port." + +"But she didn't, my lad," growled the Pilot, "and that's where the point +comes in. Why sailors can't leave them birds alone astonishes me: they +don't hurt nobody, and they don't molest the ship, but sail along out of +pure love o' company. On the strength o' that you must kill 'em, just +for a few feathers and stems for tobacco-pipes. And you got wrecked. +P'r'aps you'll leave 'em alone next voyage." + +During the last part of the conversation, Rose had risen, and entered +the house. She now returned with a small leather case in her hand. + +"This, at any rate, will be proof against bad luck," she said, as she +undid the case, and drew out a prismatic compass. She adjusted the +eye-piece, in which was a slit and a glass prism and lifted the +sight-vane, down the centre of which a horsehair stretched +perpendicularly to the card of the compass. Putting the instrument to +her eye, Rose took the bearing of one of the twin forest-clad heights, +and said, "Eighty degrees East--is that right?" + +"You've got the magnetic bearing," said Scarlett, taking the instrument +from the girl's hand. "To find the real bearing, you must allow for the +variation between the magnetic and true North." + +"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed; "that's too dreadfully technical. But take +the compass: it should keep you from being lost in the bush, anyway." + +"Thank you," said Jack. "It will be very useful. It's a proper +mining-compass." + +"I hope its needle will guide you to untold gold, and that the mine you +are looking for will act on it like a loadstone." + +"Practical and sentimental--that's Rosebud," said the Pilot, from the +further end of the seat. "And you'll always notice, Scarlett, that it's +the practical that comes first with her. Once upon a time she give me a +cardigan jacket to wear under my coat. She'd knitted it herself. She +said it would keep me warm on frosty nights, and prevent me gettin' cold +and all that; and when I gets into the boat one night, and was feeling +for a match, bless you if I didn't find a piece o' paper, folded up, in +the pocket o' that there cardigan jacket. I took it out and read it by +the lantern. It was from my own dar'ter, jest as if I'd ha' been her +sweetheart, and in it was all manner o' lovey-dovey things just fit to +turn her old dad's head. Practical first, sentimental afterwards--that's +Rosebud. Very practical over the makin' of an apple-pie--very +sentimental over the eatin' of it, ain't you, my gal?" + +"I don't know about the sentiment," said Rose, "but I am sure about the +pie. If that were missing at dinner-time I know who would grumble. So +I'll go, and attend to my duties." She had risen, and was confronting +Scarlett. "Good-bye," she said, "and good fortune." + +Jack took her proffered hand. "Thank you," he said. + +She had walked a few steps towards the house, when she looked over her +shoulder. "Don't forget the nuggets," she said with a laugh. + +"I sha'n't forget," he replied. "If I get them, you shall have them. I +hope I may get them, for _your_ sake." + +"Now, ain't that a wee bit mushy, for talk?" said the old Pilot, as his +daughter disappeared. "You might give a gal a few pennyweights, or even +an ounce, but when you say you hope you may find gold for her sake, +ain't that just a trifle flabby? But don't think you can deceive my gal +with talk such as that. She may be sentimental and stoopid with her old +dad, but I never yet see the man she couldn't run rings round at a +bargain. And as for gettin' soft on a chap, he ain't come along yet; and +when he does, like as not I'll chuck him over this here bank, and break +his impident neck. When my gal Rosebud takes a fancy, that's another +matter. If she _should_ have a leanin' towards some partic'lar chap, +why, then I'd open the door, and lug him in by the collar if he didn't +come natural and responsive. I've got my own ideas about a girl +marrying--I had my own experience, and I say, give a girl the choice, +an' she'll make a good wife. That's my theory. So if my gal is set agin +a man, I'm set agin him. If she likes a partic'lar man, I'll like him +too. She won't cotton to any miserable, fish-backed beach-comber, I can +promise you. So mushy, flabby talk don't count with Rose; you can make +your mind clear on that point." + +The young man burst into a laugh. + +"Keep her tight, Pilot," he said, in a voice loud with merriment. +"When you know you've got a good daughter, stick to her. Chuck every +interloper over the bank. I should do so myself. But don't treat _me_ so +when I come with the nuggets." + +"Now, look 'ee here," said the Pilot, as he rose cumbersomely, and took +Scarlett by the arm. "I've said you're in a bad streak o' luck, and I +believe it. But, mark me here: nothing would please me better than for +you to return with a hatful of gold. All I say is, if you're bent on +going, be careful; and, being in a bad streak, don't expect great +things." + +"Good-bye," said Scarlett. "I'm in a bad streak? All right. When I work +out of that you'll be the first man I'll come to see." + +"An' no one'll be gladder to see you." + +Captain Summerhayes took Scarlett's hand, and shook it warmly. +"Good-bye," he said. "Good luck, and damn the bad streak." + +Jack laughed, and walked down the winding path. + +The Pilot stood on the bank, and looked after him. + +"Hearten him up: that's the way," he said to himself, as he watched the +retreating figure; "but, for all that, he's like a young 'more-pork' in +the bush, with all his troubles to come." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +Hocussed. + + +In a small inner room in The Lucky Digger sat Benjamin Tresco and the +Prospector. + +The goldsmith was happy. His glass was before him, between his teeth was +the stem of his pipe, and in consequence his face beamed with +contentment, pleasure, good humour, and indolence. + +The digger, on the other hand, looked serious, not to say anxious, +and his manner was full of uneasiness. His glass stood untouched, his +half-finished pipe had gone out, and he could not sit still, but began +to pace backwards and forwards restlessly. + +"I've put my foot in it," he said, pulling nervously at his bushy beard. +"I've quarrelled with the toffs of the town, and the best thing I can do +is to make a git. I'll start for the bush to-morrer." + +"Now you're talking bunkum," said Tresco, as the smoke from his pipe +wreathed above his head. "I know those men--two bigger rogues never +breathed. They simply wanted to fleece you, and instead of that you gave +'em one in the eye. More power to you: it was immense! As for old Mr. +Crewe and his crowd, they were on the make too; but they are out of +court--there's no chance of them trying to renew your acquaintance. Now, +what you must do is to enjoy yourself quietly, and by-and-by get back to +your claim. But, for to-night, we'll have a good time--a little liquor, +a quiet game of cards, a bit of a talk, and perhaps a better +understanding." + +"To speak the blanky truth," said the digger, "you're the whitest man +I've met. True, I've give myself away a bit, but you're the only man +ain't tried to do the pump-handle business with me." + +"I'll buy all the gold you like to bring to town." + +"Right! Here's my fist: you shall 'ave all I git." + +The two men solemnly shook hands. + +"Drink your liquor," said Tresco. "It'll do you good." + +The digger drank, and re-lit his pipe. + +"Now, what I says is that there's men I like to put in the way of a good +thing." + +"Same here," said Benjamin. + +"An' I say you've dealt honest by me, and I'll deal fair and open with +you." + +"What I should expect," said Benjamin. + +"I've found a good thing--more than I could ever want myself, if I lived +a hundred years. I intend to do the handsome to a few o' my pals." + +"I'm one." + +"You're one. First, I shall go back and do a bit more prospecting, and +see if I can better my claim. Then I shall come to town, and let my +mates into the know." + +"Just so." + +"By-and-by we'll slip out o' town, an' no man any the wiser. You can't +track _me_--I'm too smart, by long chalks." + +Tresco's glass stood empty. + +"We'll drink to it," he said, and rang the little hand-bell that stood +on the table. + +Gentle Annie entered, with that regal air common to bar-maids who rule +their soggy realms absolutely. + +"Well, old gentleman, same old tipple, I suppose," said she to Tresco. + +"My dear, the usual; and see that it's out of the wood, the real Mackay. +And bring in some dice." + +The two men sat quietly till the bar-maid returned. + +Tresco rattled the dice, and threw a pair of fours. "No deception," he +said. "Are these the house's dice, my dear?" + +"They're out of the bar," replied Gentle Annie. + +"Are they in common use for throwing for drinks?" + +"What d'you take me for? D'you think I know how to load dice?" + +"My dear, this gentleman must know everything's square when he plays +with me. When we ring again, just bring in the usual. Adieu. Au revoir. +Haere ra, which is Maori. Parting is such sweet sorrow." + +As the bar-maid disappeared the digger placed a pile of bank-notes on +the table, and Tresco looked at them with feigned astonishment. "If you +think, mister, that I can set even money again that, you over-estimate +my influence with my banker. A modest tenner or two is about my height. +But who knows?--before the evening is far spent perhaps my capital may +have increased. Besides, there are always plenty of matches for +counters--a match for a pound." + +"What shall it be?" asked the digger. + +"'Kitty,'" answered Tresco. "A pound a throw, best of three." + +"I'm agreeable," said the digger. + +"Throw for first 'go,'" said Tresco. + +The digger nodded, took the dice, and threw "eight." + +The goldsmith followed with six, and said, "You go first." + +The Prospector put three pounds in the centre of the table beside +Tresco's stake, and began to play. His highest throw was ten. Tresco's +was nine, and the digger took the pool. + +"Well, you got me there," said the goldsmith. "We'll have another 'go.'" + +Again the pool was made up, and this time Tresco threw first. His +highest throw was "eleven," which the digger failed to beat. + +"She's mine: come to me, my dear." Taking the pool, the goldsmith added, +"We're quits, but should this sort of thing continue, I have a +remedy--double every alternate 'Kitty.'" + +The game continued, with fluctuations of luck which were usually in the +digger's favour. + +But the rattling of the dice had attracted attention in the bar, and, +lured by that illusive music, four men approached the room where the +gamblers sat. + +"No intrusion, I hope," said the leader of the gang, pushing open the +door. + +"Come in, come in," cried Tresco, barely glancing at the newcomers, so +intent was he on the game. + +They entered, and stood round the table: an ugly quartette. The man who +had spoken was short, thick-set, with a bullet head which was bald on +the top, mutton-chop whiskers, and a big lump under his left ear. The +second was a neat, handsome man, with black, glittering eyes, over which +the lids drooped shrewdly. The third was a young fellow with a weak +face, a long, thin neck and sloping shoulders; and the fourth, a +clean-shaven man of heavy build, possessed a face that would have +looked at home on the shoulders of a convict. He answered to the name +of Garstang. + +"Dolphin," said he to the man with the lump, "cut in." + +"No, no; let it be Carnac," said Dolphin, looking at the keen-eyed man, +who replied, "I pass it on to young William." + +"Gor' bli' me, why to me?" exclaimed the stripling. "I never strike any +luck. I hand the chanst back to you, Carny." + +The man with the shrewd eyes sat down at the table, on which he first +placed some money. Then he said in a clear, pleasant voice: + +"You've no objection, I suppose, to a stranger joining you?" + +"Not at all, not at all," said the genial Benjamin. + +"If you're meanin' me"--the digger glanced at the company +generally--"all I've got to say is: the man as increases the stakes is +welcome." + +They threw, and the digger won. + +"That's the style," said he, as he took the pool. "That's just as it +oughter be. I shout for the crowd. Name your poisons, gentlemen." He +rang the bell, and Gentle Annie appeared, radiant, and supreme. She held +a small tray in one hand, whilst the other, white and shapely, hung at +her side. As the men named their liquors, she carefully repeated what +they had ordered. When Carnac's turn came, and she said, "And yours?" +the handsome gambler stretched out his arm, and, drawing her in a +familiar manner towards him, said, "You see, boys, I know what's better +than any liquor." + +In a moment Gentle Annie had pulled herself free, and was standing off +from the sinister-faced man. + +"Phaugh!" she said with disgust, "I draw the line at spielers." + +"You draw the line at nothing that's got money," retorted the owner of +the glittering eyes, brutally. + +"Gentlemen," said Gentle Annie, with a touch of real dignity in her +manner, "I have your orders." And she withdrew modestly, without so much +as another glance at Carnac. + +The play continued till her return. She handed round glasses to all but +the handsome gambler. + +"And where's mine?" asked he. + +"You forgot to order it," said she. "I'll send the pot-boy to wait on +_you_." In a perfectly affable manner she took the money from the +uncouth digger, and then, throwing a disdainful glance at Carnac, she +tossed her head defiantly, and went out. + +The game continued. Now Tresco's pile of money was increased, now it had +dwindled to a few paltry pounds. The digger looked hot and excited as +he, too, lost. Carnac, wearing a fixed, inscrutable smile, won almost +every throw. + +The gambler's feverish madness was beginning to seize Tresco as it had +already seized his friend, but at last he was stopped by lack of funds. + +"How much have you on you, Bill?" he asked of the Prospector. + +"How much have I got, eh?" said Bill, emptying his pockets of a large +quantity of gold and bank-notes. "I reckon I've enough to see this +little game through and lend a mate a few pounds as well." + +"I'll trouble you for fifty," said Tresco, who scribbled an IOU for the +amount mentioned on the back of an envelope, and handed it to the +digger. + +The man with the lump on his neck had seated himself at the table. + +"I think, gents, I'll stand in," said he. "You two are pals, and me and +Carnac's pals. Makes things equal." He placed three pounds in the pool. + +"Hold on," Carnac interrupted. "I propose a rise. Make it L5 a +corner--that'll form a Kitty worth winning--the game to be the total of +three throws." + +"Consecutive?" Tresco asked. + +"Consecutive," said the digger. "It avoids a shindy, and is more +straightfor'ard." + +A pool of L20 was thus made up, and the play continued. + +The innocent youth who answered to the name of William stood behind +Tresco's chair and winked at Garstang, whose loosely-made mouth twitched +with merriment. + +"Don't be rash, Dolly," remarked Young William to the man with the +hideous neck, who held the dice box. "Think of your wife an' kids in +Sydney before you make yer throw. You're spoilin' my morals." + +"Go outside, and grow virtuous in the passage." Dolphin made his throws, +which totalled twenty-six. + +Tresco followed with eighteen. The digger's and Carnac's chances still +remained. + +So lucky on the diggings, so unlucky in town, Bill the Prospector took +the box with a slightly trembling hand and rattled the dice. His first +throw was twelve, his second eleven. "Even money I beat you," he said to +Dolphin. + +"Garn," replied that polite worthy. "What yer givin' us? D'you take me +for a flat?" + +The digger threw, and his score totalled thirty. + +"P'r'aps, mister," he said, turning to Carnac, "you'd like to take me +up. Quid to quid you don't beat me." + +The glittering eyes fixed themselves on the digger. "You're too +generous, sir," said the gentlemanly Carnac. "Your score is hard to +beat. Of course, I mean to try, but the odds are in your favour." + +"I'll make it two to one," said the digger. + +"Well, if you insist," replied Carnac, "I'll accommodate you." He placed +his pound upon the table, and made his first throw--ten. + +"Shake 'er up, Carny," cried Young William. "I back you. No deception, +gentlemen; a game which is nothing but luck." + +The suave gambler's next throw was eleven. + +"An even pound you lose, mister," said William to the digger. + +"Done," cried the Prospector. "Put out the money." + +Carnac threw twelve, said, "The little lady's mine," and took the pool. + +The digger handed two pounds to the winner and a pound note to Young +William who, crumpling his money in his palm, said, "Oysters for supper +and a bottle of fizz--there'll be no end of a spree." + +The monotonous round of the game continued, till Tresco's borrowed money +had dwindled to but five pounds, which was enough for but one more +chance with the dice. + +The Prospector had fared but little better. What with the money he had +staked, and side bets on individual throws, his pile of money had been +reduced to half. + +"There ain't nothin' mean about me," he said, "but I'd be obliged if +some gen'leman would shout." + +Dolphin touched the bell, and said, "I was beginning to feel that way +myself." + +A very undersized young man, who had plastered his black hair carefully +and limped with one leg, appeared, and said in a very shrill voice, +"Yes, gentlemen." + +"Who are you?" asked Dolphin. + +"I'm the actin'-barman," replied the young man, twirling the japanned +tray in his hands, and drawing himself up to his full height. + +"I should call you the blanky rouseabout," said Dolphin. "We want the +bar-maid." + +"Miss Quintal says she ain't comin'," said the important youth. "To tell +the truth, she's a bit huffed with the 'ole lot of yer. What's your +orders, gents?" + +He had hardly got the words out of his mouth, when Young William rushed +him from the room and along the passage. + +Dolphin rang the bell, but no one came to the door till Young William +himself reappeared. + +"I guess we won't have no more trouble with that lot," said he. "I +jammed 'im inter a cupboard under the stairs, along with the brooms an' +dustpans. 'Ere's the key. I'll take your orders meself, gentlemen." + +"Where's the lovely bar-maid?" asked Dolphin. + +"She's that took up with a gent that's got a cast in his eye and a red +mustache," replied William, "that she's got no time fer this crowd. +What's yours, Garstang? Look slippy. Don't keep me all night." + +The men named their liquors, and Young William, taking three shillings +from Dolphin, returned to the bar. + +He was rather a long time away, and when he reappeared Carnac remarked, +"You've been deuced slow over it--you'll have to be sharper than that, +if you want to be waiter in a hotel, my Sweet William." + +"You're all very small potatoes in this room, you're no class--you're +not in it with wall-eyed blokes. Here's yer drinks." + +He went round the table, and carefully placed each individual's glass at +his elbow; and the game continued. + +The pool fell to Carnac, and all Tresco's money was gone. + +"Here's luck," said the Prospector, lifting his glass to Dolphin; and +when he had drunk he put his stake in the middle of the table. + +Carnac rattled the dice-box. "Hello!" he said. "Kitty is short by five +pounds. Who's the defaulter?" + +"Me, I'm afraid, gentlemen," said Tresco. "I'm cleaned out. 'Case of +stone-broke." + +"What's this?" exclaimed the digger. "You ain't got a stiver left? Well, +there ain't nothing mean about me--here y'are." He roughly divided his +money, and pushed one-half across the table to Tresco. + +"Hear, hear!" cried Carnac, clapping his hands. + +"'Ere, 'ere!" echoed Sweet William. "Very 'an'some, most magnanimous." + +Benjamin reached out his hand for the money, and in so doing overturned +his glass, which broke into shivers on the floor. + +"Good liquor spilt," he remarked as he counted the money and drew +another IOU for the amount loaned, which was sixty-seven pounds. + +The play proceeded. "Here's to you," said Dolphin, as he drank to +Tresco. "Better luck--you deserve it." + +The digger was filled with the gambler's fever. His eyes were wild, his +face was hot; he drained his glass at a draught, and drummed the table +with his fingers. + +"Neck or nothin', Tresco," he said. "Make it ten pound a corner, and +let's blanky well bust or win. Win, I say--double the stakes, and see if +that'll change our luck." + +"Anything to oblige you, gentlemen," said Carnac. "Let it be ten pounds, +and you can withdraw as soon as you win your money back. It's a free +country: you can have one throw, two, or any number you please. But +don't say you were coerced, if you lose." + +Tresco answered by putting his ten pounds in the pool. + +The situation seemed to amuse Young William. He stood behind the +goldsmith's chair, holding his sides to suppress his laughter, and +making pantomimic signs to Garstang, who looked on with stolid composure +and an evil smile. + +The players made their throws, and Carnac won the pool. + +"Never mind," cried the Prospector, with strong expletives. "There's my +stake--let me have another shy. Game to the finish." He rose to his +feet, threw his money down on the table with a bang, reeled as he stood, +and sat down heavily. + +And so the game went on. No luck came to Tresco, and but a few pounds +remained in front of him. "One more Kitty, and that finishes me," he +said, as he placed his stake in the pool. + +As usual, he lost. + +"Here's seven pounds left," he cried. "Even money all round, and sudden +death on a single throw." + +The final pool was made up. The digger threw first--a paltry seven. +Dolphin followed with five. It was Tresco's turn to play next, and he +threw eleven. + +Carnac dallied long with the dice. He was about to throw, when the +Prospector rose from his seat and, swaying, caught at the suave +gambler's arm for support. With a rattle the dice-box fell. Carnac +uttered an oath. Before the players three dice lay upon the table. + +Tresco swore deep and loud, and in a moment had fastened both his hands +upon the cheat's throat. Carnac struggled, the table with all its money +fell with a crash, but the sinister Garstang made a swift movement, and +before Tresco's face there glittered the barrel of a revolver. + +"Drop him," said Garstang hoarsely. "Loose hold, or you're dead." + +The goldsmith dropped his man, but Garstang still covered him with his +weapon. + +"Stow the loot, William," said Dolphin, suiting the action to the word; +and while the two trusty comrades filled their pockets with gold and +bank-notes, Carnac slunk from the room. With a heavy lurch the digger +tumbled up against the wall, and then fell heavily to the floor. + +"Don't give so much as a squeak," said Garstang to the goldsmith, "or +you'll lie beside your mate, only much sounder." + +Dolphin and Young William, laden with booty, now retired with all speed, +and Garstang, still covering his man, walked slowly backward to the +door. He made a sudden step and was gone; the door shut with a bang; the +key turned in the lock, and Benjamin Tresco was left alone with the +insensible form of Bill the Prospector. + +"Hocussed, by Heaven!" cried the goldsmith. "Fleeced and drugged in one +evening." + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +The Temptation of the Devil. + + +The atmosphere of the little room at the back of Tresco's shop was +redolent of frying chops. The goldsmith was cooking his breakfast. + +As he sneezed and coughed, and watered at the eyes, he muttered, "This +is the time of all others that I feel the lack of Betsy Jane or a loving +wife." + +There was the sound of a foot on the narrow stairs, and Jake Ruggles +appeared, his hair still damp from his morning ablutions and his face as +clean as his muddy complexion would permit. + +"'Mornin', boss." + +"Good morning, my lad." + +"Chops?" + +"Chops and repentance," said the goldsmith. + +"Whatyer givin' us?" asked Jake, indignant. "Who's takin' any repentance +this morning?--not me, you bet." + +"There's a game called Euchre, Jake--never play it. There is likewise a +game called Kitty, which is worse. You can lose more money in one night +at one of these games than you can earn in six months." + +"Speak f'yerself," said the irreverent Jake. "I own I wasn't at a +temp'rance meetin' las' night, but I was in bed long before you come +home." + +"I was attending a sick friend," said Benjamin, dishing up the chops. "I +confess I was kept out a little late." + +"Must 'a' bin the horrors--I hope 'e didn't die." + +"You are mistaken, my brilliant youth. But I own it was something not +unlike it. My friend was drugged while having a friendly game of chance +with men he deemed to be respectable. One of them dosed his liquor, +while another rooked him with loaded dice, and what with one thing and +another he was fleeced of all his cash, and was hocussed into the +bargain." + +"An' what was _you_ doin' there?" + +"I? I was being rooked too, but either the drug was the wrong sort to +hocuss _me_, or I overturned my glass by accident, but I escaped with +the loss of a few pounds." + +"Hocuss yer grandmother!" Jake's ferret-like eyes looked unutterable +scorn. "Your bloomin' hocuss was brandy." + +"The mind of Youth is perverse and foolish," said the goldsmith, as he +poured out the tea. "When the voice of Experience and the voice of +Wisdom say, 'Eschew cards, abjure dice, avoid men with lumps on their +necks and revolvers in their pockets,' sapient Youth says, 'The old +man's goin' dotty.' But we shall see. Youth's innings will come, and I +bet a fiver--no, no, what am I thinking of?--I stake my honour that +Youth's middle stump gets bowled first ball." + +Three years before Tresco had arrived in Timber Town, and had started +business on borrowed money. Everything had favoured him but his own +improvidence, and on the eve of what he believed to be a financial boom, +he found himself in what he described as "a cleft stick." The quarter's +rent was a fortnight overdue, the interest on his mortgaged stock must +be paid in a few days; and in addition to this he was now saddled with a +debt of honour which, if paid, would leave him in a bankrupt condition. + +Rising from his half-finished meal, he put on his apron, went into the +workshop, and sat down at his bench. + +The money which he had held for satisfying the immediate calls of his +creditors was squandered, and in the course of the morning he might +expect a visit from his landlord, demanding payment. + +He might put the digger from his mind--a man drugged overnight would not +trouble him next day. The thought gave him relief, and he took up his +tool and began to engrave a monogram on a piece of silver. The outlines +of the letters were marked in pencil, and the point of his graver deftly +ploughed little furrows hither and thither, till the beauty of the +design displayed itself. + +Jake had opened the shop and taken down the shutters. The goldsmith +had lighted his pipe, and the workshop had assumed its usual air of +industry, when a rapping was heard on the glass case which stood on the +counter of the shop. + +Benjamin, glad to welcome so early a customer, rose with a beaming face, +and bustled out of the workshop. + +Bill the Prospector stood before him. + +"_Good_ morning!" Tresco's greeting was effusively delivered. "I hope I +see you well." + +"A bit thick in the head, mate," said the digger, "but not much the +worse, 'cept I ain't got so much as a bean to get a breakfast with." + +"Come in, come in," exclaimed Benjamin, as he ushered the digger into +the back room, where such chops as had escaped the voracious appetite of +Jake Ruggles remained upon the table. + +"Sit down, my friend; eat, and be well filled," said the goldsmith. +"I'll brew another pot of tea, and soon our Richard will be himself +again." + +The dissipated digger ate half a chop and a morsel of bread and, when +the tea was ready, he drank a cupful thirstily. + +"Try another," suggested Tresco, holding the teapot in his hand. "You're +a marvel at making a recovery." + +The digger complied readily. + +"That's the style," said the goldsmith. "There's nothing like tea to +counteract the effects of a little spree." + +"Spree!" The digger's face expressed indignation which he did not feel +equal to uttering. "The spree remained with the other parties, likewise +the dollars." He emptied his cup, and drew a long breath. + +"I reckon we struck a bit of a snag," said Benjamin, "four of 'em in a +lump." + +"They properly cleaned me out, anyway," said the digger. "I ain't got so +much as sixpence to jingle on a tombstone." + +He fumbled in his pockets, and at length drew out two pieces of crumpled +paper. These he smoothed with his rough begrimed hands, and then placed +them on the table. They were Tresco's IOUs. + +"I suppose you'll fix these 'ere, mate," said he. + +Benjamin scratched his head. + +"When I've squared up my hotel bill an' a few odds and ends," explained +the digger, "I'll be makin' tracks." + +Tresco looked on this man as a veritable gold-mine, in that he had +discovered one of the richest diggings in the country. To quarrel with +him therefore would be calamitous: to pay him was impossible, without +recourse to financial suicide. + +"What does it amount to?" he asked, bending over the bits of dirty +paper. "H'm, L117--pretty stiff little bill to meet between 10 p.m. and +10 a.m. Suppose I let you have fifty?" + +The digger looked at the goldsmith in astonishment. + +"If I didn't want the money, I'd chuck these bits o' paper in the fire," +he exclaimed. "S'fer as _I'm_ concerned the odd seventeen pound would +do _me_, but it's the missis down in Otago. She _must_ 'ave a clear +hundred. Women is expensive, I own, but they mustn't be let starve. So +anty up like a white man." + +"I'll try," said Tresco. + +"If I was you I'd try blanky hard," said the digger. "Act honest, and +I'll peg you off a claim as good as my own. Act dishonest, an' you can +go to the devil." + +Tresco had taken off his apron, and was putting on his coat. "I've no +intention of doing that," he said. "How would it be to get the police to +make those spielers disgorge?--you'd be square enough then." + +"Do that, and I'll never speak to you again. I've no mind to be guy'd in +the papers as a new chum that was bested by a set of lags." + +"But I tell you they had loaded dice and six-shooters." + +"The bigger fools we to set two minutes in their comp'ny." + +"What if I say they drugged you?" + +"I own to bein' drunk. But if you think to picture me to the public as a +greenhorn that can be drugged first and robbed afterwards, you must +think me a bigger fool'n I look." + +Tresco held his hat in his hand. + +"I want this yer money _now_," said the digger. "In three weeks money'll +be no object to you or me, but what I lent you last night must be paid +to-day." + +Tresco went to the door. + +"I'll get it if I can," he said. "Stay here till I come back, and make +yourself at home. You may rely on my best endeavours." He put on his +hat, and went into the street. + +Mr. Crookenden sat in his office. He was a tubby man, with eyes like +boiled gooseberries. No one could guess from his face what manner of man +he might be, whether generous or mean, hot-tempered or good-humoured, +because all those marks which are supposed to delineate character were +in him obliterated by adipose tissue. You had to take him as you found +him. But for the rest he was a merchant who owned a lucrative business +and a few small blunt-nosed steamers that traded along the coasts +adjacent to Timber Town. + +As he sat in his office, glancing over the invoices of the wrecked +_Mersey Witch_, and trying to compute the difference between the value +of the cargo and the amount of its insurance, there was a knock at the +door, and Benjamin Tresco entered. + +"How d'e do, Tresco? Take a chair," said the man of business. "The +little matter of your rent, eh? That's right; pay your way, Tresco, and +fortune will simply chase you. That's been _my_ experience." + +"Then I can only say, sir, it ain't bin mine." + +"But, Tresco, the reason of that is because you're so long-winded. +Getting money from you is like drawing your eye-teeth. But, come, come; +you're improving, you're getting accustomed to paying punctually. That's +a great thing, a very great thing." + +"To-day," said the goldsmith, with the most deferential manner of which +he was capable, "I have _not_ come to pay." + +"Mr. Tresco!" + +"But to get _you_ to pay. I want a little additional loan." + +"Impossible, absolutely impossible, Tresco." + +"Owing to losses over an unfortunate investment, I find myself in +immediate need of L150. If that amount is not forthcoming, I fear my +brilliant future will become clouded and your rent will remain unpaid +indefinitely." + +The fat man laughed wheezily. + +"That's very good," he said. "You borrow from me to pay my rent. A very +original idea, Tresco; but don't you think it would be as well as to +borrow from some one else--Varnhagen, for instance?" + +"The Jews, Mr. Crookenden; I always try to avoid the Jews. To go to the +Jews means to go to the dogs. Keep me from the hands of the Jews, I +beg." + +"But how would you propose to repay me?" + +"By assiduous application to business, sir." + +"Indeed. Then what have you been doing all this while?" + +"Suffering from bad luck." The ghost of a smile flitted across +Benjamin's face as he spoke. + +"But Varnhagen is simply swimming in money. He would gladly oblige you." + +"He did once, at something like 60 per cent. If I remember rightly, you +took over the liability." + +"Did I, indeed? Do you know anything of Varnhagen's business?" + +"No more than I do of the Devil's." + +"You don't seem to like the firm of Varnhagen and Co." + +"I have no reason to, except that the head of it buys a trinket from me +now and then, and makes me 'take it out' by ordering through him." + +"Just so. You would like to get even with him?" + +"Try me." + +"Are you good in a boat, Tresco?" + +The goldsmith seemed to think, and his cogitation made him smile. + +"Tolerably," he said. "I'm not exactly amphibious, but I'd float, I'd +float, I believe," and he looked at his portly figure. + +"Are you good with an oar?" + +"Pretty moderate," said Tresco, trying to think which end of the boat he +would face while pulling. + +"And you've got pluck, I hope?" + +"I hope," said the goldsmith. + +"To be plain with you, Tresco, I've need of the services of such a man +as yourself, reliable, silent, staunch, and with just enough of the +devil in him to make him face the music." + +Benjamin scratched his head, and wondered what was coming. + +"You want a hundred pounds," said the merchant. + +"A hundred and fifty badly," said the goldsmith. + +"We'll call it a hundred," said the merchant. "I've lost considerably +over this wreck--you can understand that?" + +"I can." + +"Well, Varnhagen, who has long been a thorn in my side, and has been +threatening to start a line of boats in opposition to me, has decided, I +happen to hear, to take immediate advantage of my misfortune. But I'll +checkmate him." + +"You're the man to do it." + +"I hold a contract for delivering mails from shore. By a curious +juncture of circumstances, I have to take out the English mail to-morrow +night to the _Takariwa_, and bring an English mail ashore from her. +Both these mails are _via_ Sydney, and I happen to know that Varnhagen's +letters ordering his boats will be in the outgoing mail, and that he is +expecting correspondence referring to the matter by the incoming mail. +He must get neither. Do you understand?--neither." + +Tresco remained silent. + +"You go on board my boat--it will be dark; nobody will recognise you. +Furthermore I shall give you written authority to do the work. You can +find your own crew, and I will pay them, through you, what you think +fit. But as to the way you effect my purpose, I am to know nothing. You +make your own plans, and keep them to yourself. But bring me the +correspondence, and you get your money." + +"Make it L200. A hundred down and the balance afterwards. This is an +important matter. This is no child's play." The subtle and criminal part +of Benjamin's mind began to see that the affair would place his landlord +and mortgagee in his power, and relieve him for evermore from financial +pressure. To his peculiar conscience it was justifiable to overreach his +grasping creditor, a right and proper thing to upset the shrewd +Varnhagen's plans: a thought of the proposed breach of the law, +statutory and moral, did not occur to his mind. + +"There may be some bother about the seals of the bags," said the +merchant, "but we'll pray it may be rough, and in that case nothing is +simpler--one bag at least can get lost, and the rest can have their +seals damaged, and so on. You will go out at ten to-morrow night, and +you will have pretty well till daylight to do the job. Do you +understand?" + +Benjamin had begun to reflect. + +"Doesn't it mean gaol if I'm caught?" + +"Nonsense, man. How can you be caught? It's _I_ who take the risk. _I_ +am responsible for the delivery of the mails, and if anything goes wrong +it's _I_ will have to suffer. You do your little bit, and I'll see that +you get off scot-free. Here's my hand on it." + +The merchant held out his flabby hand, and Tresco took it. + +"It's a bargain?" + +"It's a bargain," said Tresco. + +Crookenden reached for his cheque book, and wrote out a cheque for fifty +pounds. + +"Take this cheque to the bank, and cash it." + +Tresco took the bit of signed paper, and looked at it. + +"Fifty?" he remarked. "I said a hundred down." + +"You shall have the balance when you have done the work." + +"And I can do it how I like, where I like, and when I like between +nightfall and dawn?" + +"Exactly." + +"Then I think I can do it so that all the post office clerks in the +country couldn't bowl me out." + +But the merchant merely nodded in response to this braggadocio--he was +already giving his mind to other matters. + +Without another word the goldsmith left the office. He walked quickly +along the street, regarding neither the garish shops nor the people he +passed, and entered the doors of the Kangaroo Bank, where the Semitic +clerk stood behind the counter. + +"How will you take it?" + +The words were sweet to Benjamin's ear. + +"Tens," he said. + +The bank-notes were handed to him, and he went home quickly. + +The digger was sitting where Tresco had left him. + +"There's your money," said the goldsmith, throwing the notes upon the +table. + +The digger counted them. + +"That's only fifty," he said. + +"You shall have the balance in two days, but not an hour sooner," +replied Tresco. "In the meanwhile, you can git. I'm busy." + +Without more ceremony, he went into his workshop. + +"Jake, I give you a holiday for three days," he said. "Go and see your +Aunt Maria, or your Uncle Sam, or whoever you like, but don't let me see +your ugly face for three solid days." + +The apprentice looked at his master open-mouthed. + +The goldsmith went to the safe which stood in a corner of the shop, and +took out some silver. + +"Here's money," he said. "Take it. Don't come back till next Friday. +Make yourself scarce; d'you hear?" + +"Right, boss. Anythin' else?" + +"Nothing. Go instanter." + +Jake vanished as if the fiend were after him, and Tresco seated himself +at the bench. + +Out of a drawer immediately above the leather apron of the bench he took +the wax impression of something, and a square piece of brass. + +"Fortune helps those who help themselves," he muttered. "When the Post +Office sent me their seals to repair, I made this impression. Now we +will see if I can reproduce a duplicate which shall be a facsimile, line +for line." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +Rock Cod and Macaroni. + + +The small boat came alongside the pilot-shed with noise and fuss out of +all proportion to the insignificance of the occasion. + +It was full spring-tide, and the blue sea filled the whole harbour and +threatened to flood the very quay which stretched along the shore of +Timber Town. + +In the small boat were two fishermen, the one large and fat, the other +short and thick. + +"Stoppa, Rocka Codda!" cried the big man, who was of a very dark +complexion. "You son 'a barracouta, what I tella you? Why you not stoppa +ze boat?" + +"Stop 'er yourself, you dancin', yelpin' Dago." + +"You calla me Dago? I calla you square-'ead. I calla you Russian-Finna. +I calla you mongrel dogga, Rocka Codda." + +The Pilot's crew, standing at the top of the slip, grinned broadly, and +fired at the fishermen a volley of chaff which diverted the Italian's +attention from his mate in the boat. + +"Ah-ha!" His voice sounded as shrill as a dozen clarions, and it carried +half-a-mile along the quay. He sprang ashore. "Hi-ya!" It was like the +yell of a hundred cannibals, but the Pilot's crew only grinned. "You +ze boys. I bringa you ze flounder for tea. Heh?" In one moment the fat +fisher was back in the boat, and in another he had scrambled ashore with +a number of fish, strung together through the gills. Above the noise of +the traffic on the quay his voice rose, piercing. "I presenta. Flounder, +all aliva. I give ze fish. You giva"--with suddenness he comically +lowered his voice--"tobacco, rumma--what you like." He lay the gift of +flounders on the wooden stage. "Where I get him? I catcha him. Where you +get ze tobacco, rumma? You catcha him. Heh?" + +Rock Cod, having made fast the boat, was now standing beside his mate. + +A sailor picked up the flounders, and, turning back the gills of one of +them, said, "Fresh, eh, Macaroni?" + +The bulky Italian sidled up to the man. "Whata I tell you? Where I +catcha him? In ze sea. Where you catcha ze tobacco? In ze sea. What you +say? Heh?" He gave the sailor a dig in the ribs. + +By way of answer he received a push. His foot slipped on the wet boards +of the stage, and into the water he fell, amid shouts of laughter. + +As buoyant as a cork, he soon came to the surface, and, scrambling upon +the stage, he seized a barracouta from the boat, and rushed at his mate. +"You laugha at me, Rocka Codda? I teacha you laugh." Taking the big +fish by the tail, he belaboured his partner in business with the scaly +carcase, till the long spines of the fish's back caught in the fleshy +part of his victim's neck. But Rock Cod's screams only drew callous +comment from his persecutor. "You laugha at your mate? I teacha you. +Rocka Codda, I teacha you respecta Macaroni. Laugha now!" + +With a sudden jerk Rock Cod obtained his freedom, though not without +additional agony. He faced his partner, with revenge in his wild eyes +and curses on his tongue. But just at this moment, a stoutly-built, +red-faced sailor pushed his way through the Pilot's crew, and, snatching +the barracouta from the Italian, he thrust himself between the +combatants. + +"Of all the mad-headed Dagoes that God A'mighty sent to curse this earth +you, Macaroni, are the maddest. Why, man, folks can hear your yelling +half the length of the quay." + +"Looka!" cried the Italian. "Who are you? Why you come 'ere? Rocka Codda +and Macaroni fighta, but ze ginger-headed son of a cooka mus' interfere. +Jesu Christo! I teacha you too. I got ze barracouta lef'." + +He turned to seize another fish from the bottom of the boat, but the +sight of two men fighting on the slip with barracoutas for weapons might +detract too much from the dignity of the Pilot's crew. The Italian was +seized, and forcibly prevented from causing further strife. + +"D'you think I came here to save Rock Cod from spoiling your ugly face?" +asked the red-haired man. "No, siree. My boss, Mr. Crookenden, sent me. +He wants to see you up at his office; and I reckon there's money in it, +though you deserve six months' instead, the pair of you." + +"Heh? Your boss wanta me? I got plenty fisha, flounder, barracuda, redda +perch. Now then?" + +"He don't want your fish: he wants you and Rock Cod," said the +red-headed man. + +"Georgio"--the Italian was, in a moment, nothing but politeness to the +man he had termed "ginger"--"we go. Ze fisha?--I leava my boat, all my +fisha, here wit' my frien's. Georgio, conducta--we follow." + +Accompanied by the two fishermen, the red-headed peacemaker walked up +the quay. + +"What's the trouble with your boss?" asked Rock Cod. "What's 'e want?" + +"How can I tell? D'you think Mr. Crookenden consults _me_ about his +business? I'm just sent to fetch you along, and along you come." + +"I know, I understanda," said the Italian. "He have ze new wine from +Italia, my countree--he senda for Macaroni to tasta, and tell ze +qualitee. You too bloody about ze neck, Rocka Codda, to come alonga +me. You mus' washa, or you go to sell ze fish." + +"Go an' hawk the fish yourself," retorted Rock Cod. "You're full o' +water as a sponge, an' there'll be a pool where you stand on the +gen'leman's carpet." + +Wrangling thus, they made their way towards the merchant's office. + +While this scene was being performed at the port of Timber Town, +Benjamin Tresco was in his workshop, making the duplicate of the chief +postmaster's seal. With file and graver he worked, that the counterfeit +might be perfect. Half-a-dozen impressions of the matrix lay before him, +showing the progress his nefarious work was making towards completion. + +"One struggle more and I am free," muttered the goldsmith. "The English +seals, I happen to know, usually arrive in a melted or broken condition. +To restore them too perfectly would be to court detection--a dab of +sealing-wax, impressed with a key and sat upon afterwards, will answer +the purpose. But this robbing business--well, it suits my temperament, +if it doesn't suit my conscience. Oh, I like doing it--my instincts +point that way. But the Sunday-school training I had when a boy spoils +the flavour of it. Why can't folk let a lad alone to enjoy his sins? +Such a boy as I was commits 'em anyway. An' if he _must_ commit 'em and +be damned for 'em, why spoil _both_ his lives--at least they might leave +him alone here. But they ain't practical, these parsonic folk." He rose, +and took a white, broken-lipped jug from a shelf, and drank a deep +draught. "Water," he murmured. "See? Water, air, sunshine, all here for +me, in common with the parson. P'r'aps I shall lack water in limbo, but +so, too, may the parson--anyway he and I are on the same footing here; +therefore, why should he torment me by stirring up my conscience? He has +a bad time here and--we'll grant this for the sake of argument--a good +time afterwards. Now, I've _got_ to have a bad time with old Safety +Matches down below. Why, then, should the parson want to spoil my time +here? It looks mean anyway. If I were a parson, I'd make sure I had a +good time in _this_ world, and chance the rest. Sometimes I'm almost +persuaded to be converted, and take the boss position in a bethel, all +amongst the tea and wimmen-folk. Lor', wouldn't I preach, wouldn't I +just ladle it out, and wouldn't the dears adore me?" + +Suddenly there was a loud knocking at the door. Instantly the spurious +seals and the fraudulent matrix were swept into the drawer above the +apron of the bench, and Benjamin Tresco rose, benignant, to receive his +visitors. + +He opened the door, and there entered the red-headed sailor, who was +closely followed by Rock Cod and Macaroni. + +Tresco drew himself up with dignity. + +"This is quite unexpected," he said. "The honour is great. Who do I see +here but Fish-ho and his amiable mate? It is sad, gentlemen, but I'm off +flounders since the Chinaman, who died aboard the barque, was buried in +the bay. It is a great misfortune for Fish-ho to have dead Chinamen +buried on his fishing-grounds, but such is the undoubted fact." + +"You need have no fear on that score, mister," said the red-headed +sailor. "They've not come to sell fish. Speak up, Macaroni." + +"We come to tella you we come from Mr. Crookendena. We come to you +accepta ze service of Rocka Codda and Macaroni." + +For one brief moment Tresco looked perplexed. Then his face assumed its +usual complacence. "Are you in the know, too?" he asked of the seaman. + +"All I know is that I was told to pilot these two men to your shop. That +done, I say good-day." + +"And the same to you," said Tresco. "Happy to have met you, sir, and I'm +sorry there's nothing to offer you in the jug but water." + +"There's no bones broke anyway," replied the sailor as he edged towards +the door. "But if you'll say when the real old stingo is on tap, I'll +show you how to use the water." + +"Certainly," said Tresco. "Nothing will please me better. Good +afternoon. Sorry you must go so soon. Take great care of yourself. Good +men are scarce." + +As the door closed behind the sailor the goldsmith turned to the +fishermen. + +"So you were sent to me by Mr. Crookenden?" + +"That's so." It was Rock Cod who answered. "He give us the price of a +drink, an' says he, 'There'll be five pound each for you if you do as +Mr. Tresco tells you.' We're a-waitin' orders; ain't that so, Macaroni?" + +"Rocka Codda spik alla right--he understanda ze Inglese. I leave-a it to +him." + +"You are good men in a boat, I have no doubt. Very good." The goldsmith +pursed his lips, and looked very important. "Mr. Crookenden has +entrusted me with a mission. You row the boat--I carry out the mission. +All you have to do is to bring your boat round to Mr. Crookenden's wharf +at ten o'clock to-night, and the rest is simple. Your money will be paid +you in the morning, in full tale, up to the handle, without fail. You +understand? Five pounds a piece for a few hours' hire of your boat and +services." + +"We catch your drift all right," said Rock Cod. + +"But, remember"--the goldsmith looked very serious--"mum's the word." + +"I have ze mum," said Macaroni. "I spik only to Rocka Codda, he spik +only to me--zat alla right?" + +"Quite so, but be punctual. We shall go out at ten o'clock, wet or fine. +Till then, adieu." + +"Ze same to you," said the Italian. "You ze fine fella." + +"Take this, and drink success to my mission." Tresco handed them a +silver coin. + +"That part of the business is easy," remarked Rock Cod. "But as to the +job you've got in hand, well, the nature o' that gets over _me_." + +"All you're asked to do is to row," said Tresco. "As to the rest, that +lies with me and my resourcefulness. Now git." + +Benjamin opened the door, and pushed the fishermen out. + +"Remember," he said, as they departed, "if I hear a word about the +matter in the bar of any hotel, our bargain is off and not a cent will +you get for your pains." + +"Look 'ere, cap'n." Rock Cod turned suddenly round. "We passed you our +word: ain't that good enough?" + +"My trusty friend, it is. So-long. Go, and drink my health." + +Without another word the fishermen went, and the goldsmith returned to +put the finishing touches to his fraudulent work. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +What the Bush Robin Saw. + + +The Bush Robin had a pale yellow breast, and his dominion extended from +the waterfall, at the bottom of which lay a deep, dark, green pool, to +the place where the _rimu_ tree had fallen across the creek. + +His life was made up of two things; hunting for big white grubs in the +rotten barrels of dead trees, and looking at the yellow pebbles in the +stream. This last was a habit that the wood-hen had taught him. She was +the most inquisitive creature in the forest, and knew all that was +going on beyond the great river, into which the creek fell, and as far +away as the Inaccessible Mountains, which were the end of the world: not +that she travelled far, but that all wood-hens live in league, and spend +their time in enquiring into other people's business. + +The _tui_ and the bell-bird might sing in the tops of the tall trees, +but the Bush Robin hardly ever saw them, except when they came down to +drink at the creek. The pigeons might coo softly, and feed on _tawa_ +berries till actually they were ready to burst, and could not fly from +the trees where they had gorged themselves--as great gluttons as ever +there were in Rome: but the Bush Robin hardly knew them, and never spoke +to them. He was a bird of the undergrowth, a practical entomologist, +with eyes for nothing but bugs, beetles, larvae, stick-insects, and the +queer yellow things in the river. + +Being a perfectly inoffensive bird, he objected to noise, and for that +reason he eschewed the company of the kakas and paroquets who ranged the +forest in flocks, and spoilt all quietude by quarrelling and screeching +in the tree-tops. But for the _kakapo_, the green ground-parrot who +lived in a hollow _rata_ tree and looked like a bunch of maiden-hair +fern, he had great respect. This was a night-bird who interfered with no +one, and knew all that went on in the forest between dark and dawn. + +Then there was the red deer, the newest importation into those woods. +The Bush Robin never quite knew the reason of his own inquisitiveness, +and the roaming deer never quite knew why the little bird took so much +interest in his movements, but the fact remained that whenever the +antlered autocrat came to drink at the stream, the Bush Robin would +stand on a branch near by, and sing till the big buck thought the little +bird's throat must crack. His thirst quenched, the red deer would be +escorted by the Bush Robin to the confine of the little bird's preserve, +and with a last twitter of farewell, Robin would fly back rapidly to +tell the news to his mate. + +I had almost forgotten her. She was slightly bigger than Robin himself, +and possessed a paler breast. But no one saw them together; and though +they were the most devoted pair, none of the forest folk ever guessed +the fact, but rather treated their tender relationship with a certain +degree of scepticism. + +Therefore, these things having been set forth, it was not strange that +the Bush Robin, having eaten a full meal of fat white grubs, should +sit on a bough in the shade of a big _totara_ tree and watch, with +good-natured interest begotten of the knowledge that he had dined, the +movements of the world around him. The broken ground, all banks and +holes and roots, was covered with dead leaves, moss, sticks, and beds +of ferns, and was overgrown with supple-jacks, birch-saplings and +lance-wood. On every side rose immense trees, whose dark boughs, +stretching overhead, shut out the sun from the gloomy shades below. + +The Bush Robin, whose sense of hearing was keen and discriminating, +heard a strange sound which was as new as it was interesting to him. He +had heard the roaring of the stags and the screeching of the parrots, +but this new sound was different from either, though somewhat like both. +There it was again. He must go and see what it could mean. In a moment, +he was flitting beneath the trees, threading his way through the leafy +labyrinth, in the direction of the strange noise. As he alighted on a +tall rock, which reared itself abruptly from the hurly-burly of broken +ground, before him he saw two strange objects, the like of which he had +never seen, and of which his friend the wood-hen, who travelled far and +knew everything, had not so much as told him. They must be a new kind of +stag, but they had no horns--yet perhaps those would grow in the spring. +One had fallen down a mossy bank, and the other, who was dangling a +supple-jack to assist his friend in climbing, was making the strange +noise. The creature upon the ground grunted like the wild pigs, from +whose rootings in the earth the Bush Robin was wont to derive immense +profit in the shape of a full diet of worms; but these new animals +walked on two feet, in a manner quite new to the little bird. + +Then the strange beings picked up from the ground queer things which the +Bush Robin failed to comprehend, and trudged on through the forest. The +one that led the way struck the trees with a glittering thing, which +left the boles marked and scarred, and both held in their mouths sticks +which gave off smoke, a thing beyond the comprehension of the little +bird, and more than interesting to his diminutive mind. Here were new +wonders, creatures who walked on two legs, but not as birds--the one +with the beard like a goat's must be the husband of the one who had +none; and both breathed from their mouths the vapour of the morning +mist. + +The Bush Robin followed them, and when they paused to rest on the soft +couch of ferns beneath a _rimu_ tree, the bird alighted on the ground +and hopped close to them. + +"I could catch the little beggar with my hand," said one. + +"Don't hurt him," said the other, "he'll bring us luck." + +"Then give me a match--my pipe's gone out." + +The match was lighted, and the cloud of smoke from the re-lit pipe +floated up to the boughs overhead. The Bush Robin watched the miracle, +but it was the yellow flame which riveted his attention. The lighted +match had been thrown away, and before the smoker could put his foot on +it, the little bird darted forward, seized the white stem and, with the +burning match in his beak, flitted to the nearest bough. + +The men laughed, and watched to see what would happen. + +Pleased beyond expression with his new prize, the Bush Robin held it in +his beak till a fresh sensation was added to the new things he was +experiencing: there was a sudden shake of his little head, the match +fell, and went out. + +The men undid their swags and began to eat, and the Bush Robin feasted +with them on white crumbs which looked, like the match-stick, as if they +might be grubs, but tasted quite different. + +"Tucker's good," said the man with the beard, "but, I reckon, what we +want is a drink." + +"The billy's empty," said the other--"I spilt it when I came that +cropper, and nearly broke my neck." + +"Then there's nothing for it but to wait till we come to a stream." + +They rose, tied up their swags, and journeyed on; the bearded man +continuing to blaze the track, the younger man following him, and the +Bush Robin fluttering beside them. + +The creek was but a little way off. Soon the noise of its waters greeted +the ears of the travellers. The thirsty men hurried in the direction of +the sound, which grew louder and louder, till suddenly pushing through a +tangled screen of supple-jacks and the soft, green fronds of a small +forest of tree-ferns, they stood on the bank of a clear stream, which +rushed noisily over a bed of grey boulders. + +The bearded man stooped to drink: the other dipped the billy into the +water and drank, standing. + +The little bird had perched himself on a big rock which stood above the +surface of the swirling water. + +"Good," said he with the beard. "There's no water like bush water." + +"There's that little beggar again," said the other, watching the bird +upon the rock. + +"He's following us around. This shall be named Bush Robin Creek." + +"Bush Robin Creek it is," said the other. "Now take a prospect, and see +if you can get a colour." + +The older man turned over a few boulders, and exposed the sand that lay +beneath them. Half a shovelful of this he placed in a tin dish, which he +half-filled with water. Then squatting on his heels, he rotated the dish +with a cunning movement, which splashed little laps of water over the +side and carried off the lighter particles of sand and dirt. When all +the water in the dish was thus disposed of, he added more and renewed +the washing process, till but a tablespoonful of the heaviest particles +of grit remained at the bottom. This residue he poked over with his +forefinger, peering at it nearly. + +Apparently he saw nothing. More water was put into the dish, and the +washing process was continued till but a teaspoonful of grit remained. + +"We've got the colour!" he exclaimed, after closely examining this +residue. + +His comrade knelt beside him, and looked at the "prospect." + +A little more washing, and at the bottom of the dish lay a dozen flakes +of gold, with here and there a grain of sand. + +"We must go higher up," said the bearded man. "This light stuff has been +carried over a bar, maybe, and the heavier gold has been left behind." + +Slowly and with difficulty they worked their way along the bank of the +creek, till at last they came to a gorge whose rocky sides stood like +mighty walls on either side. + +The gold-seekers were wading up to their waists in water, and the Bush +Robin was fluttering round them as they moved slowly up the stream. +Expecting to find the water deeper in the gorge, the man in front went +carefully. The rocky sides were full of crevices and little ledges, on +one of which, low down upon the water, the little Robin perched. + +The man reached forward and placed his hand upon the ledge on which the +bird was perched; the Bush Robin fluttered overhead, and then the man +gave a cry of surprise. His hand had rested on a layer of small nuggets +and golden sand. + +"We've got it, Moonlight! There's fully a couple of ounces on this ledge +alone." + +The bearded man splashed through the water, and looked eagerly at the +gold lying just above the water-line. + +"My boy, where there's that much on a ledge there'll be hundreds of +ounces in the creek." + +He rapidly pushed ahead, examining the crevices of the rock, above and +below the water-line. + +"It's here in stacks," he exclaimed, "only waiting to be scraped out +with the blade of a knife." + +Drawing his sheath-knife from his belt, he suited the action to the +word; and standing in the water, the two men collected gold as children +gather shells on the shore. + +And the Bush Robin watched the gold-seekers take possession of the +treasured things, which he had looked upon as his own especial property; +fancying that they glittered merely for his delight. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +The Robbery of the Mails. + + +The night was pitch dark; the wind had gone to rest, and not a ripple +stirred the face of the black waters. + +"Ahoy! there." + +"Comin', comin'. I've only bin waitin', this 'arf hour." + +The man standing at the horse's head ran round to the back of his +"express"--a vehicle not unlike a square tray on four wheels--and, +letting down the tail-board, pulled out a number of mail-bags. + +With two of these under each arm, he made his way to the wooden steps +which led down to the water's edge, and the men in the boat heard the +shuffling and scraping of his feet, as he felt with his boot for the +topmost step; his hands being fully occupied in holding the bags. + +Slowly, step by step, he stumped down to the water, where willing hands +took his burden and stowed it in the bottom of the boat. + +"Four," said the carrier. "One more lot, and that lets me out." + +As he reached the top of the wharf, on his return journey, the bright +lamps of his express dazzled his eyes, and somebody cannoned against him +at the back of the trap. + +"Now, then! Who're yer shovin' up agin?" + +"All right, my man. I'm not stealing any of the bags." + +The express-man recognised the voice. + +"Is that you, Mr. Crookenden? Beg pardon, sir." + +"Come, come, get the mail aboard. My men don't want to be out in the +boat all night." + +The man carried down his last load of bags, and returned, panting. + +"There's only the paper to be signed," he said, "and then they can +clear." + +"Give _me_ the form." + +The man handed a piece of paper to the mail-contractor. + +"How many bags?" + +"Eight." + +By the light of the lamps Crookenden signed the paper, and handed it +back to the carrier, who mounted to his seat, and drove away. + +The merchant went to the edge of the wharf. + +"All right, down there?" + +"Aye, aye, sir," replied a gruff voice. + +"Then cast off." + +There was the noise of oars, and a dark object upon the waters vanished +into the night. + +"Good-night!" + +"Good-night," answered the gruff voice faintly, and Crookenden turned +his steps towards home. + +"That's all serene," said the owner of the gruff voice, whose +modulations had suddenly assumed their accustomed timbre--the rather +rasping articulation of the goldsmith. + +"Couldn't have fallen out better if I'd arranged it myself. Lay to! +belay! you lazy lubbers, forrard--or whatever is the correct nautical +expression to make her jump. Put your backs into it, and there'll be +five pounds apiece for you in the morning." + +"Alla right, boss; we ze boys to pulla. Rocka Codda, you asleep +zere?--you maka Macaroni do alla ze work." + +"Pull yerself, you lazy Dago. Anyone w'd think you was rowing the +bloomin' boat by yourself. Why, man, I'm pulling you round every dozen +strokes. The skipper, aft there, is steerin' all he knows agin me." + +The truth was that Benjamin's manipulation of the tiller was +extraordinary and erratic, and it was not until the boat was well past +the wharves that he mastered its mysteries. + +The tide was ebbing, and when the boat was in the stream her speed +doubled, and there was no need for using the oars. Swiftly and silently +she drifted past the lights on the quay and the ghostly houses which +stood beside the water. + +The Pilot's system of beacons was so perfect that with their aid a tyro +such as Tresco found no difficulty in steering his course out of the +harbour. + +Outside in the bay, the lights of two vessels could be seen: those of +the plague-ship and of the steamer which, unable to get into the port in +the teeth of the tide, was waiting for the mails. + +But Tresco pointed his boat's nose straight for the long beach which +fringed the end of the bay. + +The rowers had seen the mail-bags put aboard the boat, and they now +wondered why they did not go straight to the steamer. + +"Hi! boss. The mail-steamer lies to starboard: that's her lights behind +the barque's." + +"Right, my man," replied Tresco; "but I have a little business ashore +here, before we pull out to her." + +The boat was now nearing the beach. As soon as her keel touched the +sand, Tresco jumped into the water and, ordering the fishermen to do the +same, the boat was quickly pulled high and dry. + +"Take out the bags," commanded the pseudo-skipper. + +The men demurred. + +"Why you do this? Santa Maria! is alla these mail go back to town?" + +"_There's_ the steamer--_out there_!" exclaimed Rock Cod. "A man'd +think----" + +But he was cut short. + +"You saw Mr. Crookenden put the bags aboard. He's the contractor--I'm +only acting under his instructions. Do you wish to remain fishermen all +your lives, or would you rather die rich?" + +"We know the value of dollars, you may bet that," answered Rock Cod. + +"Then lend a hand and get these bags ashore. And you, Macaroni, collect +driftwood for a fire." + +When the mail-bags were all landed, Benjamin took a lantern from the +boat, lit it, and walked up the beach to where the fishermen stood, +nonplussed and wondering. + +"Your feet must be wet, Macaroni." + +"_Si, signor._" + +"Wet feet are bad, not to say dangerous. Go down to the boat, and you'll +find a bottle of rum and a pannikin. Bring them here, and we'll have a +dram all round." + +Tresco placed the lantern on the sand, and waited. + +"You see, Rock Cod, there are some things in this world that cut both +ways. To do a great good we must do a little wrong--that's not quite my +own phrase, though it expresses my sentiments--but in anything you do, +never do it by halves." + +"I ain't 'ad no schoolin' meself," answered the fisherman. "I don't take +much account of books; but when there's a drop o' rum handy, I'm with +you." + +The Italian came up the beach with the liquor. + +"Here's what'll put us all in good nick," said Tresco, as he drew the +cork of the bottle, and poured some of the spirit into the pannikin. +"Here's luck," and he drank his dram at a draught. + +He generously replenished the cup, and handed it to Rock Cod. + +"Well, cap'n," said that puzzled barnacle, "there's things I don't +understand, but here's fun." He took his liquor at a gulp, and passed +the pannikin to his mate. + +It took the Italian no time to catch the drift that matters were taking. + +"You expecta make me drunk, eh, signor? You steala ze mail an' carry him +away, eh? Alla right, you try." + +"Now, look here," said Tresco; "it's this way. These bags want +re-sorting--and I'm going to do it. If in the sorting I come across +anything of importance, that's _my_ business. If, on the other hand, you +happen across anything that you require, but which seems thrown away on +other folks, that's _your_ business. If you don't like the bargain, you +can both go and sit in the boat." + +Neither man moved. It was evident that Crookenden had chosen his tools +circumspectly. + +"Very good," said Tresco, "you have the run of your fingers over this +mail when I have re-sorted it, provided you keep your heads shut when +you get back to town. Is it a bargain?" + +He held out his hand. + +Rock Cod was the first to take it. He said:-- + +"It's a bargain, boss." + +Macaroni followed suit. "Alla right," he said. "I reef in alonga you an' +Rocka Codda. I no spik." + +So the compact was made. + +Seizing the nearest bag, Tresco cut its fastenings, and emptied its +contents on the sand. + +"Now, as I pass them over to you," said he, seating himself beside the +heap of letters, "you can open such as you think were meant for you, but +got misdirected by mistake to persons of no account. But burn 'em +afterwards." + +He put a match to the driftwood collected by the Italian. "Those that +don't interest you, gentlemen, be good enough to put back into the bag." + +His hands were quick, his eyes were quicker. He knew well what +to look for. As he glanced at the letters, he threw them over to his +accomplices, till in a short time there was in front of them a bigger +pile of correspondence than had been delivered to them previously in the +course of their conjoint lives. + +The goldsmith seldom opened a letter, and then only when he was in doubt +as to whether or not it was posted by the Jewish merchant. The fishermen +opened at random the missives in front of them, in the hope of finding +they knew not what, but always in disappointment and disgust. + +At length, however, the Italian gave a cry of joy. "I have heem. Whata +zat, Rocka Codda?" He held a bank-note before his mate's eyes. "Zat five +pound, my boy. Soon I get some more, eh? Alla right." + +Tresco put a letter into the breast-pocket of his coat. It's envelope +bore on its back the printed legend, "Joseph Varnhagen, General +Merchant, Timber Town." + +So the ransacking of the outgoing mail went forward. Now another bag was +opened, but, as it contained nothing else but newspapers and small +packages, the goldsmith desired to leave it intact. But not so his +accomplices. They therein saw the chief source of their payment. +Insisting on their right under the bargain, the sand in front of them +was soon strewn with litter. + +Tresco, in the meantime, had directed his attention to another bag, +which contained nothing but correspondence, and evidently he had found +what he was most earnestly in search of, for he frequently expressed his +delight as he happened across some document which he thrust into his +bosom. + +In this way the mail was soon rummaged, and without waiting for the +other two men to finish their search, the goldsmith began to reseal the +bags. First, he took from his pocket the counterfeit matrix which had +cost him so much labour to fashion. Next, he took some string, similar +to that which he had previously cut, and with it he retied the necks of +the bags he had opened. With the help of a lighted match, he covered the +knotted strings, first of one bag and then of another, with melted +sealing-wax, which he impressed with the counterfeit seal. + +His companions watched the process with such interest that, forgetting +for a time their search amongst the chattels of other people, they gave +their whole attention to the process of resealing the bags. + +"Very 'andy with his fingers, ain't 'e, Macaroni?--even if 'e _is_ a bit +un'andy in a boat." Confederacy in crime had bred a familiarity which +brought the goldsmith down to the level of his co-operators. + +All the bags were now sealed up, excepting the one which the fishermen +had last ravaged, and the contents of which lay scattered on the sand. + +"This one will be considerably smaller than it useter was," remarked +Tresco, as he replaced the unopened packets in the bag. + +"Hi! stoppa!" cried Macaroni, "Rocka Codda an' me wanta finish him." + +"And leave me to hand in an empty bag? Most sapient Macaroni, under your +own guidance you would not keep out of gaol a fortnight: Nature did not +equip you for a career in crime." + +Tresco deftly sealed up the last bag, and then said, "Chuck all the odds +and ends into the fire, and be careful not to leave a scrap unburned: +then we will drink to our continued success." + +The fire blazed up fiercely as the torn packages, envelopes, and letters +were thrown upon its embers. The goldsmith groped about, and examined +the sand for the least vestige of paper which might form a clue to their +crime, but when he was satisfied that everything had been picked up, he +returned to the fire, and watched the bright flames as they leapt +heavenwards. + +His comrades were dividing their spoil. + +"I think, boss," said Rock Cod, "the best of the catch must ha' fell to +your share: me and my mate don't seem to have mor'n ten pound between +us, not countin' truck worth p'r'aps another five." + +"So far as _I_ am concerned, my man,"--Tresco used the unction of tone +and the dignity of manner that he loved so well--"I am but an agent. _I_ +take nothing except a few letters, some of which I have not even +opened." + +The Italian burst out laughing. "You ze boss? You conducta ze holy show, +eh? Alla right. But you take nuzzing. Rocka Codda an' Macaroni get ten +pound, fifteen pound; an' you get nuzzing." + +"Information is what I get," said Tresco. "But, then, information is the +soul of business. Information is sometimes more valuable than a +gold-mine. Therefore, in getting, get information: it will help you to +untold wealth. My object, you see, is knowledge, for which I hunger +and thirst. I search for it by night as well as by day. Therefore, +gentlemen, before we quit the scene of our midnight labours, let us +drink to the acquisition of knowledge." + +Rock Cod and Macaroni did not know what he meant, but they drank rum +from the pannikin with the greatest good-will. After which, Benjamin +scattered the embers of the fire, which quickly died out, and then the +three men shoved the boat off and pulled towards the lights of the +steamer. + +On board the barque Captain Sartoris paced the poop-deck in solitude. +Bored to death with the monotony of life in quarantine, the smallest +event was to him a matter of interest. He had marked the fire on the +beach, and had even noticed the figures which had moved about it. How +many men there were he could not tell, but after the fire went out, and +a boat passed to starboard of the barque and made for the steamer which +lay outside her, he remarked to himself that it was very late at night +for a boat to be pulling from the shore. But at that moment a head was +put out of the companion, and a voice called him in pidgin English to go +down. He went below, and stood beside the sick captain, whose mind was +wandering, and whose spirit was restless in its lodging. He watched the +gasping form, and marked the nervous fingers as they clutched at the +counterpane as hour after hour went by, till just as the dawn was +breaking a quietness stole over the attenuated form, and with a slight +tremour the spirit broke from its imprisonment, and death lay before +Sartoris in the bunk. Then he went on deck, and breathed the pure air +of the morning. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +Dealing Mostly with Money. + + +Pilot Summerhayes stood in his garden, with that look on his face which +a guilty schoolboy wears when the eye of his master is upon him. + +In his hand he held a letter, at which he glanced furtively, as if he +feared to be caught in the act of reading, although the only eyes that +possibly could have detected him were those of two sparrows that were +discussing the purple berries of the Portuguese laurel which grew near +by. + +"'I enclose the usual half-yearly allowance of L250.'" The Pilot was +reading from the letter. "Damnation take him and his allowance!" +ejaculated the irascible old sailor, which was a strange anathema +to hurl at the giver of so substantial a sum of money. "I suppose +he thinks to make me beholden to him: I suppose he thinks me as poor +as a church-rat, and, therefore, I'm to be thankful for mercies +received--_his_ mercies--and say what a benefactor he is, what a +generous brother. Bah! it makes me sicker than ever to think of him." +He glanced at the letter, and read, "'Hoping that this small sum is +sufficient for yourself and my very dear niece, to whom I ask to be +most kindly remembered, I remain your affectionate brother, Silas +Summerhayes.'" A most brotherly epistle, containing filial expressions, +and indicating a bountiful spirit; and yet upon reading it the Pilot +swore deep and dreadful oaths which cannot be recorded. + +Every six months, for at least fifteen years, he had received a similar +letter, expressing in the same affectionate terms the love of his +brother Silas, which was accentuated by a like draft for L250, and yet +the Pilot had persistently cursed the receipt of each letter. + +There was a footstep on the verandah behind him. With a start the old +man thrust the epistle and draft into his pocket, and stood, with a look +on his face as black as thunder, confronting almost defiantly his +charming daughter. + +"Have you got your letters, father? I heard the postman's knock." As she +spoke, Rose looked rather anxiously at her frowning parent. "Good news, +I hope--the English mail arrived last night." + +"I daresay it did, my gal," growled the Pilot. "But I don't see what you +and me have to do with England, seeing we've quit it these fifteen +years." + +"But we were born there! Surely people should think affectionately of +their native country." + +"But we won't die there, please God--at least, _I_ won't, if I can help +it. You'll not need to, I hope. We're colonials: _this_ is our country." + +The girl turned to go indoors, but, a sudden impulse seizing her, she +put her arms around the old man's neck, and kissed his weather-beaten +cheek. + +"What's been troubling you, father? _I'll_ drive the worry away." She +held his rough hand in hers, and waited for him to speak. + +"You're a good gal, Rosebud; you're a great comfort. But, Lord bless me, +you're as sensitive as a young fawn. There's nothing the matter with +_me_, except when now and again I get a fit of the blues; but you've +drove 'em away, da'rter; you've drove 'em clean away. Now, just you run +in and attend to your house; and leave me to go into town, where I've +a bit of business to attend to--there's a good gal." He kissed his +daughter's smooth, white forehead, and she ran indoors, smiling and +happy. + +The Pilot resettled the peaked cap on his head, stumped down the +garden-path, and passed out of his gate and along the road. His steps +led him to the main street of the town, where he entered the Kangaroo +Bank, the glass doors of which swung noiselessly behind him, and he +stood in front of the exquisite clerk of Semitic origin, who dealt out +and received over the broad counter the enormous wealth of the opulent +institution. + +"Good morning, Captain Summerhayes." + +"'Mornin'," said the Pilot, as he fumbled in the inside pocket of his +coat. + +At length he drew out the draft and handed it to the clerk, who turned +it over, and said, "Please endorse it." + +The old sailor took a pen, and with infinite care wrote his name on the +back of the document. + +When the clerk was satisfied that everything was in order, he said, +"Two-hundred-and-fifty pounds. How will you take it, Captain?" + +"_I_ don't want to take it," answered the Pilot gruffly. "I'll put it +along with the other." + +"You wish to deposit it?" said the clerk. "Certainly. You'll need a +form." + +He drew a printed slip from a box on the counter, and filled it in. +"Sign here, please," he said, indicating with his finger the place of +signature. + +"No, no," said the old man, evidently annoyed. "You've made it out in +_my_ name. It should be in my da'rter's, like all the rest have been." +The clerk made the necessary alteration, and the Pilot signed. + +"If you call in this afternoon, I'll give you the deposit receipt," said +the clerk. + +"Now, really, young man, an't that a bit slow? D'you think I've got +nothing better to do than to dodge up and down from the port, waitin' +for your precious receipts?" + +The clerk looked surprised that anyone should question his dictum for +one moment, but he immediately handed the signed form to a neighbouring +clerk for transmission to the manager, or to some functionary only one +degree less omnipotent. + +"And while we're waiting," said the Pilot, "I'd be much obliged if you'd +show me the book where you keep the record of all the monies I've put +into your bank." + +The clerk conferred with another clerk, who went off somewhere and +returned with a heavy tome, which he placed with a bang on the counter. + +The Jew turned over the broad leaves with a great rustling. "This +inspection of our books is purely optional with us, Captain, but with an +old customer like yourself we waive our prerogative." + +"Very han'some of you, very han'some indeed. How does she stand?" + +The clerk ran his fingers down a long column of figures, and said, +"There are a number of deposits in Miss Rose's name. Shall I read the +amounts?" + +"I've got the receipts in my strong-box. All I want is the total." + +"Ten thousand, five hundred pounds," said the clerk. + +"And there's this here new lot," said the Pilot. + +"Ten thousand, seven hundred and fifty altogether." + +The Pilot drew the heavy account book towards him, and verified the +clerk's statements. Then he made a note of the sum total, and said, +"I'll take that last receipt now, if it's ready." + +The clerk reached over to a table, where the paper had been placed by a +fellow clerk, and handed it to the gruff old sailor. + +"Thank you," said Pilot Summerhayes. "Now I can verify the whole +caboodle at my leisure, though I hate figures as the devil hates holy +water." He placed the receipt in his inside pocket and buttoned up his +coat. "Good-day," he said, as he turned to go. + +"I wish you good morning, Captain." + +The Pilot glanced back; his face wearing a look of amusement, as though +he thought the clerk's effusiveness was too good to be true. Then he +nodded, gave a little chuckle, and walked out through the swinging, +glass doors. + +The Jew watched the bulky sailor as he moved slowly, like a ship leaving +port in heavy weather, with many a lurch and much tacking against an +adverse wind. By the expression on the Semitic face you might have +thought that Isaac Zahn was beholding some new and interesting object +of natural history, instead of a ponderous and grumpy old sailor, who +seemed to doubt somewhat the _bona fides_ of the Kangaroo Bank. But the +truth was that the young man was dazzled by the personality of one who +might command such wealth; it had suddenly dawned on his calculating +mind that a large sum of money was standing in the name of Rose +Summerhayes; he realised with the clearness of a revelation that there +were other fish than Rachel Varnhagen in the sea of matrimony. + +The witching hour of lunch was near at hand. Isaac glanced at the clock, +the hands of which pointed to five minutes to twelve. As soon as the +clock above the Post Office sounded the hour, he left the counter, which +was immediately occupied by another clerk, and going to a little room in +the rear of the big building, he titivated his person before a small +looking-glass that hung on the wall, and then, putting on his immaculate +hat, he turned his back upon the cares of business for one hour. + +His steps led him not in the direction of his victuals, but towards +the warehouse of Joseph Varnhagen. There was no hurry in his gait; he +sauntered down the street, his eyes observing everything, and with a +look of patronising good humour on his dark face, as though he would +say, "Really, you people are most amusing. Your style's awful, but I put +up with it because you know no better." + +He reached the door of Varnhagen's store in precisely the same frame of +mind. The grimy, match-lined walls of the merchant's untidy office, the +litter of odds and ends upon the floor, the antiquated safe which stood +in one corner, all aroused his pity and contempt. + +The old Jew came waddling from the back of the store, his body ovoid, +his bald head perspiring with the exertion he had put himself to in +moving a chest of tea. + +"Well, my noble, vat you want to-day?" he asked, as he waddled to his +office-table, and placed upon it a packet of tea, intended for a sample. + +"I just looked round to see how you were bobbing up." + +"Bobbin' up, vas it? I don't bob up much better for seein' _you_. Good +cracious! I vas almost dead, with Packett ill with fever or sometings +from that ship outside, and me doin' all his vork and mine as well. +Don't stand round in my vay, ven you see I'm pizzy!" Young Isaac +leisurely took a seat by the safe, lighted a cigarette, and looked on +amusedly at the merchant's flurry. + +"You try to do too much," he said. "You're too anxious to save wages. +What you want is a partner to keep your books, a young man with energy +who will look after your interests--and his own. You're just wearing +yourself to skin and bone; soon you'll go into a decline, and drop off +the hooks." + +"Eh? Vat? A decline you call it? Me? Do I look like it?" + +The fat little man stood upright, and patted his rotund person. + +"It's the wear and tear of mind that I fear will be fatal to you. You +have brain-tire written large over every feature. I think you ought to +see a doctor and get a nerve tonic. This fear of dying a pauper is +rapidly killing you, and who then will fill your shoes?" + +"My poy, there is one thing certain--_you_ won't. I got too much sense. +I know a smart feller when I see him, and _you're_ altogetter too slow +to please _me_." + +"The really energetic man is the one who works with his brains, and +leaves others to work with their hands." + +"Oh! that's it, eh? Qvite a young Solomon! Vell, _I_ do both." + +"And you lose money in consequence." + +"I losing money?" + +"Yes, _you_. You're dropping behind fast. Crookenden and Co. are +outstripping you in every line." + +"Perhaps you see my books. Perhaps you see theirs." + +"I see their accounts at the bank. I know what their turn-over is; I +know yours. You're not in it." + +"But they lose their cargo--the ship goes down." + +"But they get the insurance, and send forward new orders and make +arrangements with us for the consignors to draw on them. Why, they're +running rings round you." + +"Vell, how can I help it? My mail never come--I don't know vat my +beobles are doing. But I send orders, too." + +"For how much?" + +"Dat's _my_ pizz'ness." + +"And _this_ is mine." The clerk took a sheet of paper from his pocket. + +"_I_ don't want to know your pizz'ness." + +"But you'd like to know C. and Co.'s." + +"Qvite right. But _you_ know it--perhaps you know the Devil's pizz'ness, +too." + +Young Zahn laughed. + +"I wish I did," he said. + +"Vell, young mans, you're getting pretty near it; you're getting on that +vay." + +"That's why it would be wise to take me into _your_ business." + +"I dare say; but all you vant is to marry my taughter Rachel." + +"I want to marry her, that's true, but there are plenty of fish in the +sea." + +"And there are plenty other pizz'ness besides mine. You haf my answer." + +The bank-clerk got up. "What I propose is for your good as well as mine. +_I_ don't want to ruin you; I want to see you prosper." + +"_You_ ruin me? How do you do that? If I change my bank, how do _you_ +affect me?" + +"But you would have to pay off your overdraft first." + +"That vill be ven the manager pleases--but as for his puppy clerk, +dressed like a voman's tailor, get out of this!" + +The young man stood, smiling, by the door; but old Varnhagen, enacting +again the little drama of Luther and the Devil, hurled the big office +ink-pot at the scheming Isaac with full force. + +The clerk ducked his head and ran, but the missile had struck him under +the chin, and his immaculate person was bespattered from shirt-collar to +mouse-coloured spats with violet copying-ink. In this deplorable state +he was forced to pass through the streets, a spectacle for tittering +shop-girls and laughing tradesmen, that he might gain the seclusion of +his single room, which lay somewhere in the back premises of the +Kangaroo Bank. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +The Wages of Sin. + + +As Pilot Summerhayes turned up the street, after having deposited his +money, he might well have passed the goldsmith, hurrying towards the +warehouse of Crookenden and Co. to receive the wages of his sin. + +In Tresco's pocket was the intercepted correspondence, upon his face was +a look of happiness and self-contentment. He walked boldly into the +warehouse where, in a big office, glazed, partitioned, and ramparted +with a mighty counter, was a small army of clerks, who, loyal to their +master, stood ready to pillage the goldsmith of every halfpenny he +possessed. + +But, with his blandest smile, Benjamin asked one of these formidable +mercenaries whether Mr. Crookenden was within. He was ushered +immediately into the presence of that great personage, before whom +the conducting clerk was but as a crushed worm; and there, with a +self-possession truly remarkable, the goldsmith seated himself in a +comfortable chair and beamed cherubically at the merchant, though in his +sinful heart he felt much as if he were a cross between a pirate and a +forger. + +"Ah! you have brought my papers?" said the merchant. + +"I've brought _my_ papers," said the goldsmith, still smiling. + +Crookenden chuckled. "Yes, yes," he said, "quite right, quite right. +They are yours till you are paid for them. Let me see: I gave you L50 in +advance--there's another L50 to follow, and then we are quits." + +"Another hundred-and-fifty," said Tresco. + +"Eh? What? How's that? We said a hundred, all told." + +"Two hundred," said Tresco. + +"No, no, sir. I tell you it was a hundred." + +"All right," said Tresco, "I shall retain possession of the letters, +which I can post by the next mail or return to Mr. Varnhagen, just as I +think fit." + +The merchant rose in his chair, and glared at the goldsmith. + +"What!" cried Tresco. "You'll turn dog? Complete your part of the +bargain. Do you think I've put my head into a noose on your account for +_nothing_? D'you think I went out last night because I loved you? No, +sir, I want my money. I happen to need money. I've half a mind to make +it two-hundred-and-fifty; and I would, if I hadn't that honour which is +said to exist among thieves. We'll say one-hundred-and-fifty, and cry +quits." + +"Do you think you have me in your hands?" + +"I don't _think_," replied the cunning goldsmith. "I _know_ I've got +you. But I'll be magnanimous--I'll take L150. No, L160--I must pay the +boatmen--and then I'll say no more about the affair. It shall be buried +in the oblivion of my breast, it shall be forgotten with the sins of my +youth. I must ask you to be quick." + +"Quick?" + +"Yes, as quick as you conveniently can." + +"Would you order me about, sir?" + +"Not exactly that, but I would urge you on a little faster. I would +persuade you with the inevitable spur of fate." + +The merchant put his hand on a bell which stood upon his table. + +"That would be of no use," said Benjamin. "If you call fifty clerks and +forcibly rob me of my correspondence, you gain nothing. Listen! Every +clerk in this building would turn against you the moment he knew your +true character; and before morning, every man, woman and child in Timber +Town would know. And where would you be then? In gaol. D'you hear?--in +gaol. Take up your pen. An insignificant difference of a paltry hundred +pounds will solve the difficulty and give you all the comfort of a quiet +mind." + +"But what guarantee have I that after you have been paid you won't +continue to blackmail me?" + +"You cannot possibly have such a guarantee--it wouldn't be good for +you. This business is going to chasten your soul, and make you mend your +ways. It comes as a blessing in disguise. But so long as you don't refer +to the matter, after you have paid me what you owe me, I shall bury the +hatchet. I simply give you my word for that. If you don't care to take +it, leave it: it makes no difference to me." + +The fat little merchant fiddled nervously with the writing materials in +front of him, and his hesitation seemed to have a most irritating effect +upon the goldsmith, who rose from his chair, took his watch from his +pocket, and walked to and fro. + +"It's too much, too much," petulantly reiterated Mr. Crookenden. "It's +not worth it, not the half of it." + +"That's not _my_ affair," retorted Tresco. "The bargain was for L200. I +want the balance due." + +"But how do I know you have the letters?" whined the merchant. + +"Tut, tut! I'm surprised to hear such foolishness from an educated man. +What you want will be forthcoming when you've drawn the cheque--take my +word for that. But I'm tired of pottering round here." The goldsmith +glanced at his watch. "I give you two minutes in which to decide. If you +can't make up your mind, well, that's your funeral. At the end of that +time I double the price of the letters, and if you want them at the new +figure then you can come and ask for them." + +He held his watch in his hand, and marked the fleeting moments. + +The merchant sat, staring stonily at the table in front of him. + +The brief moments soon passed; Tresco shut his watch with a click, and +returned it to his pocket. + +"Now," he said, taking up his hat, "I'll wish you good morning." + +He was half-way to the door, when Crookenden cried, "Stop!" and reached +for a pen, which he dipped in the ink. + +"He, he!" he sniggered, "it's all right, Tresco--I only wanted to test +you. You shall have the money. I can see you're a staunch man such as I +can depend on." + +He rose suddenly, and went to the big safe which stood against the wall, +and from it he took a cash-box, which he placed on the table. + +"Upon consideration," he said, "I have decided to pay you in cash--it's +far safer for both parties." + +He counted out a number of bank notes, which he handed to the goldsmith. + +Tresco put down his hat, put on his spectacles, and counted the money. +"Ten tens are a hundred, ten fives are fifty, ten ones are ten," he +said. "Perfectly correct." He put his hand into the inner pocket of his +coat, and drew out a packet, which was tied roughly with a piece of +coarse string. "And here are the letters," he added, as he placed them +on the table. Then he put the money into his pocket. + +Crookenden opened the packet, and glanced at the letters. + +Tresco had picked up his hat. + +"I am satisfied," said the merchant. "Evidently you are a man of +resource. But don't forget that in this matter we are dependent upon +each other. I rely thoroughly on you, Tresco, thoroughly. Let us forget +the little piece of play-acting of a few minutes ago. Let us be friends, +I might say comrades." + +"Certainly, sir. I do so with pleasure." + +"But for the future," continued Crookenden, "we had better not appear +too friendly in public, not for six months or so." + +"Certainly not, not too friendly in public," Benjamin smiled his +blandest, "not for at least six months. But any communication sent +me by post will be sure to find me, unless it is intercepted by some +unscrupulous person. For six months, Mr. Crookenden, I bid you adieu." + +The merchant sniggered again, and Benjamin walked out of the room. + +Then Crookenden rang his bell. To the clerk who answered it, he said: + +"You saw that man go out of my office, Mr. Smithers?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"If ever he comes again to see me, tell him I'm engaged, or not in. I +won't see him--he's a bad stamp of man, a most ungrateful man, a man I +should be sorry to have any dealings with, a man who is likely to get +into serious trouble before he is done, a man whom I advise all my young +men to steer clear of, one of the most unsatisfactory men it has been my +misfortune to meet." + +"Yes, sir." + +"That's all, Mr. Smithers," said the head of the firm. "I like my young +men to be kept from questionable associates; I like them to have the +benefit of my experience. I shall do my best to preserve them from the +evil influence of such persons as the man I have referred to. That will +do. You may go, Mr. Smithers." + +Meanwhile, Benjamin Tresco was striding down the street in the direction +of his shop; his speed accelerated by a wicked feeling of triumph, and +his face beaming with an acute appreciation of the ridiculous scene in +which he had played so prominent a part. + +"Hi-yi!" he exclaimed exultingly, as he burst into the little room at +the back of his shop, where the Prospector was waiting for him, "the +man with whips of money would outwit Benjamin, and the man with the +money-bags was forced to shell out. Bill, my most esteemed pal, the rich +man would rob the poor, but that poor man was Benjamin, your redoubtable +friend Benjamin Tresco, and the man who was dripping with gold got, +metaphorically speaking, biffed on the boko. Observe, my esteemed and +trusty pal, observe the proceeds of my cunning." + +He threw the whole of his money on the table. + +"Help yourself," he cried. "Take as much as you please: all I ask is the +sum of ten pounds to settle a little account which will be very pressing +this evening at eight o'clock, when a gentleman named Rock Cod and his +estimable mate, Macaroni Joe, are dead sure to roll up, expectant." + +The digger, who, in spite of his return to the regions of civilisation, +retained his wildly hirsute appearance, slowly counted the notes. + +"I make it a hundred-and-sixty," he said. + +"That's right," said Tresco: "there's sixty-seven for you, and the +balance for me." + +Bill took out the two IOUs, and placed them on the table. They totalled +L117, of which Benjamin had paid L50. + +"I guess," said the Prospector, "that sixty-seven'll square it." He +carefully counted out that sum, and put it in his pocket. + +Benjamin counted the balance, and made a mental calculation. +"Ninety-three pounds," he said, "and ten of that goes to my respectable +friends, Rock Cod and Macaroni. That leaves me the enormous sum of +eighty-three pounds. After tearing round the town for three solid days, +raising the wind for all I'm worth and almost breaking my credit, this +is all I possess. That's what comes of going out to spend a quiet +evening in the company of Fortunatus Bill; that's what comes of backing +my luck against ruffians with loaded dice and lumps on their necks." + +"Have you seen them devils since?" asked the Prospector. + +"I've been far too busy scrapin' together this bit of cash to take +notice of folks," said Benjamin, as he tore up the IOUs and threw them +into the fireplace. "It's no good crying over spilt milk or money lost +at play. The thing is for you to go back to the bush, and make good your +promise." + +"I'm going to-morrow mornin'. I've got the missus's money, which I'll +send by draft, and then I'll go and square up my bill at the hotel." + +"And then," said Benjamin, "fetch your swag, and bunk here to-night. +It'll be a most convenient plan." + +"We're mates," said the Prospector. "You've stood by me and done the +'an'some, an' I'll stand by you and return the compliment. An' it's my +hope we'll both be rich men before many weeks are out." + +"That's so," said Benjamin. "Your hand on it." + +The digger held out his horny, begrimed paw, which the goldsmith grasped +with a solemnity befitting the occasion. + +"You'll need a miner's right," said the digger. + +"I've got one," said Tresco. "Number 76032, all in order, entitling me +to the richest claim in this country." + +"I'll see, mate, that it's as rich as my own, and that's saying a +wonderful deal." + +"Damme, I'll come with you straight away!" + +"Right, mate; come along." + +"We'll start before dawn." + +"Before dawn." + +"I'll shut the shop, and prospect along with you." + +"That's the way of it. You an' me'll be mates right through; and we'll +paint this town red for a week when we've made our pile." + +"Jake! Drat that boy; where is he? Jake, come here." + +The shock-headed youth came running from the back yard, where he was +chopping wood. + +"Me and this gentleman," said his master, "are going for a little +excursion. We start to-morrow morning. See? I was thinking of closing +the shop, but I've decided to leave you in charge till I return." + +The lad stood with his hands in his pockets, and blew a long, shrill +whistle. "Of all the tight corners I was ever in," he said, "this takes +the cake. I'll want a rise in wages--look at the responsibility, boss." + +The goldsmith laughed. "All right," he said. "You shall have ten +shillings a week extra while I'm away; and if we have luck, Jake, I'll +make it a pound." + +"Right-oh! I'll take all the responsibility that comes along. I'll get +fat on it. And when you come back, you'll find the business doubled, and +the reputation of B. Tresco increased. It'll probably end in you taking +me in as partner--but _I_ don't care: it's all the same to _me_." + +The goldsmith made an attempt to box the boy's ear, but Jake dodged his +blow. + +"That's your game, is it?" exclaimed the young rogue. "Bash me about, +will you? All right--I'll set up in opposition!" + +He didn't wait for the result of this remark, but with a sudden dart he +passed like a streak of lightning through the doorway, and fled into the +street. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +Rachel's Wiles. + + +Rachel Varnhagen walked down the main street of Timber Town, with the +same bustling gait, the same radiant face, the same air of possessing +the whole earth, as when the reader first met her. As she passed the +Kangaroo Bank she paused, and peered through the glass doors; but, +receiving no responsive glance from the immaculately attired Isaac, who +stood at the counter counting out his money, she continued her way +towards her father's place of business, where she found the rotund +merchant in a most unusual state of excitement. + +"Now, vat you come bothering me this morning, Rachel? Can't you see I'm +pizzy?" + +"I want a cheque, father." + +"You get no cheque from me this morning, my child. I've got poor all of +a sudden. I've got no cheques for nopody." + +"But I have to get things for the house. We want a new gourmet +boiler--you know you won't touch currie made in a frying-pan--a steamer +for potatoes, and half-a-dozen table-knives." + +"Don't we haff no credit? What goot is my name, if you can't get +stew-pans without money? Here I am, with no invoices, my orders ignored +as if I was a pauper, and my whole piz'ness at a standstill. Not one +single letter do I get, not one. I want a hundred thousand things. I +send my orders months and months ago, and I get no reply. My trade is +all going to that tam feller, Crookenden! And you come, and ask me +for money. Vhen I go along to the Post Master, he kvestion me like a +criminal, and pring the Police Sergeant as if I vas a thief. I tell him +I nefer rob mail-bags. I tell him if other peoples lose letters, I +lose them too. I know nothing aboudt it. I tell him the rascal man is +Crookenden and Co.--he should take _him_ to prison: he contracts for +mails and nefer delivers my letters. I tell him Crookenden and Co. is +the criminal, not me. Then he laff, but that does not gif me my +letters." + +During this harangue, Rachel had stood, the mute but pretty picture of +astonishment. + +"But, father," she said, "I want to go to the bank. I want to speak to +Isaac awfully, and how can I go in there without some excuse!" + +"I'll gif you the exguse to keep out! I tell you somethings which will +make you leave that young man alone. He nefer loaf you, Rachel--he loaf +only my money." + +"Father! this worry about the mail has turned you silly." + +"Oh, yes, I'm silly when I throw the ink-pot at him. I've gone mad when +I kick him out of my shop. You speak to that young man nefer again, +Rachel, my tear; you nefer look at him. Then, by-and-by, I marry you +to the mos' peautiful young man with the mos' loafly moustache and +whiskers. You leaf it to your poor old father. He'll choose you a good +husband. When I was a young man I consult with _my_ father, and I marry +your scharming mamma, and you, my tear Rachel, are the peautiful result. +Eh? my tear." + +The old man took his daughter's face between his fat hands, and kissed +her on both cheeks. + +"You silly old goose," said Rachel, tenderly, "you seem to think I have +no sense. I'm not going to marry Isaac _yet_--there can't be any harm in +speaking to him. I'm only engaged. Why should you be frightened if I +flirt a little with him? You seem to think a girl should be made of +cast-iron, and just wait till her father finds a husband for her. You're +buried up to your eyes in invoices and bills of lading and stupid, +worrying things that drive you cranky, and you never give a thought to +my future. What's to become of me, if I don't look out for myself? +Goodness knows! there are few enough men in the town that I _could_ +marry; and because I pick out one for myself, you storm and rage as if +I was thinking of marrying a convict." + +"Young Zahn is worse: he is the worst rogue I ever see. He come in here +to bully me into making him my partner. He threatens to tell my piz'ness +to Crookenden and Co. I tell him, 'You do it, my poy. I schange my +account, and tell your manager why.' That young man's too smart: soon he +find himself in gaol. If my tear little Rachel marries a criminal, what +would become of her poor old father? My tear, my tarling, you make me +die with grief! But wait till the right young man comes along, then I +gif you my blessing and two thousand pounds. But I gif you not von penny +if you marry young Zahn." + +The tears were now standing in Rachel's pretty eyes, and she looked the +picture of grief. + +"I never do _anything_, but you blame me," she sobbed. "When I wish to +do a thing, you always say it's bad. You don't love me!" And she burst +into a flood of tears. + +"Rachel! Rachel! I gafe you the gold watch; and that bill came to +thirty-three pounds. I gif you everything, and when I tell you not to +run after a bad young feller, you say I nefer loaf you. Rachel, you are +cruel; you make your father's heart bleed; you stab me here"--he pointed +with his fat forefinger to the middle of his waistcoat--"you stab me +here"--he placed his finger on his forehead. "You show no loaf, no +consideration. You make me most unhappy. You're a naughty girl!" + +The old fellow was almost crying. Rachel put her arms about his neck, +and pressed his corpulent person with affection. + +"Father, I'll be good. I know I'm very bad. But I love you, father. I'll +never cause you any sorrow again. I'll do everything you tell me. I +won't gad about so much; I'll stop at home more. I will, father; I +really will." + +"My tear Rachel! My loafly!" The old man was holding his pretty daughter +at arm's length, and was gazing at her with parental fondness. "You are +my peautiful, tear, goot, little girl." + +Again her arms were flung round his neck. Again she kissed his bristly +cheeks with her ruby-red lips. "You _are_ an old dear," she exclaimed. +"You're the kindest old governor going." + +"You loaf your old father?" + +"Of _course_ I do. But I _do_--I _do_ so want a small cheque. I must +have it for the house." + +"You'll always loaf your father, Rachel?" + +"Always." She renewed her affectionate embraces. + +"You shall have a little one--not so big as when my ship comes home, not +so big as I'd like, but enough to show that I loaf you, Rachel." + +He let her lead him to his desk, and there he sat and wrote a cheque +which Rachel took gladly. She gave him one more kiss, and said, "You +dear, good, kind old party; your little Rachel's _awfully_ pleased," and +gaily tripped from the dingy office into the sunny street. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +Digging. + + +Moonlight and Scarlett were glad with the delight of success, for inside +their tent, which was pitched beside Bush Robin Creek, lay almost as +much gold as one of them could conveniently carry to Timber Town. + +They had searched the rocky sides of the gorge where they had first +found gold, and its ledges and crevices had proved to be exceedingly +rich. Next, they had examined the upper reaches of the creek, and after +selecting a place where the best "prospects" were to be found, they had +determined to work the bottom of the river-bed. Their "claim" was pegged +off, the water had been diverted, and the dam had been strengthened +with boulders taken from the river-bed, and now, having placed their +sluice-boxes in position, they were about to have their first "washing +up." + +As they sat, and ate their simple fare--"damper" baked on the red-hot +embers of their fire, a pigeon which Scarlett had shot that morning, and +tea--their conversation was of their "claim." + +"What do you think it will go?" + +"The dirt in the creek is rich enough, but what's in the flat nobody can +say. There may be richer gold in some of the higher terraces than down +here. I've known such cases." + +At the place where they were camped, the valley had been, at some +distant period, a lake which had subsided after depositing a rich layer +of silt, through which the stream had cut its way subsequently. Over +this rich alluvial deposit the forest had spread luxuriantly, and it was +only the skill of the experienced prospector that could discover the +possibilities of the enormous stretches of river silt which Nature had +so carefully hidden beneath the tangled, well-nigh impenetrable forest. + +"The river is rich," continued Moonlight, "that we know. Possibly it +deposited gold on these flats for ages. If that is so, this valley will +be one of the biggest 'fields' yet developed. What we must do first is +to test the bottom of the old lake; therefore, as soon as we have taken +the best of the gold out of the river, I propose to 'sink' on the +terraces till I find the rich deposit." + +"Perhaps what we are getting now has come from the terraces above," said +Jack. + +"I think not." + +"Where does it come from then?" + +"I can't say, unless it is from some reef in the ranges. You must not +forget that there's the lower end of the valley to be prospected yet--we +have done nothing below the gorge." + +Talking thus, they ate their "damper" and stewed pigeon, and drank their +"billy" tea. Then they lit their pipes, and strolled towards the scene +of their labours. + +The place chosen for the workings was selected by circumstance rather +than by the diggers. At this particular point of its course there had +been some hesitation on the part of the river in choosing its bed, +and with but a little coaxing it had been diverted into an old +channel--which evident signs showed to be utilised as an overflow in +time of flood--and thus by a circuitous route it found its way to the +mouth of the gorge. + +All was ready for the momentous operation of washing up, and the men's +minds were full of expectation. + +The bottom of fine silt, which had been laid bare when the boulders had +been removed, stood piled on the bank, so as to be out of harm's way in +case the river burst through the dam. Into the old bed a trickle of +water ran through the sluice-boxes. These were set in the dry bed of the +stream, and were connected with the creek by a water-race. They were +each twelve feet in length, and consisted of a bottom and two sides, +into which fitted neatly a twelve-foot board, pierced with a number of +auger-holes. These boxes could be joined one to another, and the line +of them could thus be prolonged indefinitely. The wash-dirt would be +shovelled in at the top end, and the water, flowing down the "race," +would carry it over the boxes, till it was washed out at the lower end, +leaving behind a deposit of gold, which, owing to its specific gravity, +would lodge in the auger-holes. + +Moonlight went to the head of the "race," down which presently the water +rushed, and rippled through the sluice-boxes. Next, he threw a shovelful +of wash-dirt into the lower part of the "race," and soon its particles +were swept through the sluice, and another shovelful followed. + +When Moonlight tired, Scarlett relieved him, and so, working turn and +turn about, after an hour they could see in the auger-holes a small +yellow deposit: in the uppermost holes an appreciable quantity, and in +the lower ones but a few grains. + +"It's all right," said Moonlight, "we've struck it." He looked at the +great heaps of wash-dirt on the bank, and his eyes shone with +satisfaction. + +"Do you think the dam will hold?" asked Scarlett of the experienced +digger. + +"It's safe enough till we get a 'fresh'," was the reply. Moonlight +glanced at the dripping rampart, composed of tree-trunks and stones. +"But even if there does happen to be a flood, and the dam bursts," he +added, "we've still got the 'dirt' high and dry. But we shall have +warning enough, I expect, to save the 'race' and sluice-boxes." + +"It meant double handling to take out the wash-dirt before we started to +wash up," said Scarlett, "but I'm glad we did it." + +"Once, on the Greenstone," said Moonlight, "we were working from the bed +of the creek. There came a real old-man flood which carried everything +away, and when we cleaned out the bed again, there wasn't so much as a +barrowful of gold-bearing dirt left behind. Once bitten, twice shy." + +If the process was monotonous, it had the advantage of being simple. The +men slowly shovelled the earth into the last length of the "race," and +the running water did the rest. In the evening, a big pile of "tailings" +was heaped up at the foot of the sluice, and as some of the auger-holes +were half-filled with gold, Moonlight gave the word for cleaning out the +boxes. + +The water from the dam was cut off, leaving but a trickle running +through the boxes. The false bottoms were then taken out of the sluice, +and upon the floors of the boxes innumerable little heaps of gold lay +exposed to the miners' delighted eyes. + +The heavy gold, caught before it had reached the first sluice-box, lay +at the lower end of the "race." To separate the small quantity of grit +that remained with the gold, the diggers held the rich little heaps +claw-wise with their fingers, while the rippling water ran through them. +Thus the gold was left pure, and with the blade of a sheath-knife, it +was easily transferred to the big tin dish. + +"What weight?" asked Jack, as he lifted the precious load. + +Moonlight solemnly took the "pan" from his mate. "One-fifty to one-sixty +ounces," he said oracularly. His gaze wandered to the heap of wash-dirt +which remained. "We've washed about one-sixth," he said. "Six times +one-fifty is nine hundred. We'll say, roughly, L4 an ounce: that gives +us something like L3600 from that heap." + +As night was now approaching, they walked slowly towards their tent, +carrying their richly-laden dish with them. Sitting in the tent-door, +with their backs to the dark forest and their heads bent over the +gold, they transferred the precious contents of the dish to a strong +chamois-leather bag. Moonlight held open the mouth of the receptacle, +and watched the process eagerly. About half the pleasant task was done, +when suddenly a voice behind them said, "Who the blazes are _you_?" + +Turning quickly, they saw standing behind them two men who had emerged +from the forest. + +Seizing an axe which lay beside him, Moonlight assumed an attitude of +defence. Scarlett, who was weaponless, stood firm and rigid, ready for +an onslaught. + +"You seem to have struck it," said the newcomer who had spoken, his +greedy eyes peering at the dish. "Do put down that axe, mate. We ain't +bushrangers." + +Moonlight lowered the head of his weapon, and said, "Yes, we've got the +colour." + +"Blow me if it ain't my friend Moonlight!" exclaimed the second +intruder, advancing towards the diggers. "How's yerself?" + +"Nicely, thank you," replied Moonlight. "Come far to-day?" + +"A matter of eight hours' tramp--but not so fer; the bush is mighty +thick. This is my mate. Here, Ben, shake 'ands." + +It was none other than Benjamin Tresco who came forward. As he lowered +his "swag" to the ground, he said, smiling urbanely, "How de do? I +reckon you've jumped our claim. But we bear no malice. We'll peg out +another." + +"This ain't ours," said the Prospector, "not by chalks. You're above the +gorge, ain't you?" + +"Yes," replied Moonlight, "I should reckon we must be a mile above it." + +"Where I worked," continued Bill, "was more'n a mile below the gorge. +What are you makin'?" + +"A few pennyweights," responded Moonlight. + +"It looks like it!" exclaimed the Prospector, glancing at the +richly-laden dish. "Look 'ere, Ben: a few pennyweights, that's all--just +makin' tucker. Poor devils!" + +Moonlight laughed, and so did Scarlett. + +"Well, we might do worse than put our pegs alongside theirs, eh, Ben?" + +"Oceans worse," replied Tresco. + +"Did you prospect the gorge?" asked Moonlight. + +"I wasn't never in the gorge," said the Prospector. "The river was too +high, all the time I was working; but there's been no rain for six +weeks, so she's low now." + +Tresco advanced with mock trepidation, and looked closely at the gold in +the chamois-leather bag, which he lifted with assumed difficulty. "About +half a hundredweight," he said. "How much more of this sort have you +got?" + +Moonlight ignored the question, but turning to the Prospector, he said, +"I shouldn't have left till I'd fossicked that gorge, if I'd been you." + +"Then you've been through it?" queried Bill. + +Moonlight nodded. + +"How did it pan out?" + +"There was gold there." + +"Make tucker, eh?" the Prospector laughed. "Well this'll be good enough +for us. We'll put in our pegs above yours. But how you dropped on this +field just gits over me. You couldn't have come straighter, not if I'd +shown you the way myself." + +"Instinct," replied Moonlight. "Instinct and the natural attraction of +the magnet." He desired to take no credit for his own astuteness in +prospecting. + +Scarlett had so far said nothing, but he now invited the newcomers to +eat, before they pitched their tent. + +"No, no," said the Prospector, "you must be on pretty short commons--you +must ha' bin out a fortnight and more. Me an' my mate'll provide the +tucker." + +"We _are_ a bit short, and that's the truth," said Moonlight, "but we +reckon on holding out till we've finished this wash-up, and then one of +us'll have to fetch stores." + +While Benjamin and his mate were unpacking their swags and Scarlett was +lighting the fire, Moonlight transferred the rest of the gold from the +dish to the leather bag. + +When the four men sat down to their frugal meal of "billy" tea, boiled +bacon, and "damper," they chatted and laughed like schoolboys. + +"Ah!" exclaimed Tresco, as red flames of the fire shot toward the stars +and illumined the gigantic trunks of the surrounding trees, "this is +freedom and the charm of Nature. No blooming bills to meet, no bother +about the orders of worrying customers, no everlasting bowing and +scraping; all the charm of society, good-fellowship, confidence, and +conversation, with none of the frills of so-called civilization. But +that is not all. Added to this is the prospect of making a fortune in +the morning. Now, that is what I call living." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +A Den of Thieves. + + +Down a by-lane in the outskirts of Timber Town stood a dilapidated +wooden cottage. Its windows lacked many panes, its walls were bare +of paint, the shingles of its roof were rotten and scanty; it seemed +uninhabitable and empty, and yet, as night fell, within it there burned +a light. Moreover, there were other signs of life within its crazy +walls, for when all without was quiet and dark, the door opened and a +bare-headed man emerged. + +"Carny!" he called. + +A whistle sounded down the lane, and soon a figure advanced from the +shadow of a hedge and stood in the light of the open door. + +"We've only waited near an hour for you," said the first man. "If you've +orders to be on time, be on time. D'you expect the whole push to dance +attendance on you?" + +"Now, Dolphin, draw it mild. That blame pretty girl at The Lucky Digger +kept me, an' wouldn't let me go, though I told her I had a most +important engagement." + +"Petticoats an' _our_ business don't go together," gruffly responded +Dolphin. "Best give 'em a wide berth till we've finished our work here +and got away." + +The two men entered the house, and the door was shut. + +At a bare, white-pine table sat two other men, the sour-faced Garstang +and the young fellow who answered to the name of Sweet William. + +"Come in, come in," said the latter, "and stop barrackin' like two old +washerwomen. Keep yer breath to discuss the biz." + +Dolphin and Carnac drew chairs to the table, on which stood a guttering +candle, glued to the wood with its own grease. + +"Charming residence," remarked Carnac, elegant in a black velvet coat, +as he glanced round the bare and battered room. + +"Sweet William Villa," said the young man. "I pay no rent; and mighty +comfortable it is too, when you have a umberella to keep out the rain." + +"Our business," said the pugnacious-looking Dolphin, "is to square up, +which hasn't been done since we cleaned out the digger that William +hocussed." + +He drew a handful of notes and gold from his pocket, and placed it on +the table. + +"Gently," said Sweet William, who took Carnac's hat, and placed it over +the money. "Wait till I fix my blind." Snatching a blanket from a bed +made upon the bare floor, he hung it on two nails above the window, so +as to effectually bar the inquisitive gaze of chance wayfarers. "Damme, +a bloke would think you wanted to advertise the firm and publish our +balance-sheet." Stepping down to the floor, he replaced Carnac's hat +upon its owner's head, and said "Fire away." + +Each man placed his money in front of him, and rendered his account. +Then Dolphin took all the money, counted it, and divided it into four +equal heaps, three of which he distributed, and one of which he +retained. + +"Fifty-seven quid," said Sweet William, when he had counted his money. +"A very nice dividend for the week. I think I'll give up batching here, +and live at The Lucky Digger and have a spree." + +"Not much, William," broke in Dolphin. "Keep yourself in hand, my son. +Wait till we've made our real haul and got away with the loot: then you +can go on the burst till all's blue. Each man wants his wits about him, +for the present." + +"You mean the bank," said Carnac. + +The leader of the gang nodded. + +"I've fossicked around the premises," continued the gentleman in the +velvet coat, "and I must confess that they're the most trifling push _I_ +ever saw. There's the manager, a feeble rat of a man; another fellow +that's short-sighted and wears specs.; a boy, and the teller, a swell +who wears gloves on his boots and looks as if he laced himself up in +stays." + +"I reckon there's a rusty old revolver hanging on a nail somewheres," +remarked Garstang. + +"Most likely," said Dolphin, "but our plan is to walk in comfortable and +easy just before closing-time. I'll present a faked-up cheque which'll +cause a consultation between the teller and the short-sighted party. In +the meantime, Carnac will interview the manager about sending a draft to +his wife in England. You, Garstang, will stand ready to bar the front +door, and William will attend to the office-boy and the door at the +back. Just as the clerks are talking about the cheque, I'll whip out my +weapon and bail 'em up, and then the scheme will go like clock-work." + +"But suppose there's a mob of customers in the place?" asked Garstang. + +"A lot of harmless sheep!" replied Dolphin. "It'll be your duty to bail +them up. There's a big strong-room at the back, well-ventilated, +commodious, and dry. We'll hustle everybody into that, and you and +William will stand guard over them. Then Carnac will bring the manager +from his room, and with the persuasion of two pistols at his head the +little old gentleman will no doubt do the civil in showing us where he +stows his dollars. There'll be plenty of time: the bank will be closed +just as in the ordinary course of things. We'll do the job thoroughly, +and when we've cleaned the place out, we'll lock all the parties up in +the strong-room, and quit by the back door as soon as it's dusk." + +"Sounds O.K.," remarked Sweet William, "but there'll be a picnic before +morning. I reckon we'll need to get away pretty sudden." + +"That can be arranged in two ways," said Dolphin. "First, we can choose +a day when a steamer is leaving port early in the evening, say, eight +o'clock; or we can take to the bush, and make our way across country. +I've turned over both plans in my mind, and I rather prefer the latter. +But that is a point I leave to you--I'll fall in with the opinion of the +majority." + +"Yes," said Garstang, "it looks as if it must succeed: it looks as +if it can't go wrong. Our leader Dolphin, the brains of the gang, has +apparently fixed up everything; the details are all thought out; the men +are ready and available, but----" + +"But what?" asked Dolphin gruffly. "Are you going to back down? +Frightened of getting a bit of lead from a rusty old revolver, eh?" + +"It ain't that," replied the ugliest member of the gang, "but supposin' +there's no money in the bloomin' bank, what then?" + +A roar of laughter greeted his surmise. + +"What d'you suppose the bank's for," asked Carnac, "if not to store up +money?" + +"Whips and whips of money," observed Sweet William, the stem of his +lighted pipe between his teeth. "You go with a legitimate cheque for, +say, L550, and you'd get it cashed all right." + +"Certainly"; replied Garstang, "in notes. And that's where we'd fall in. +Every number is known, and so soon as we tried to cash the dirty paper, +we'd get lagged. Even if we passed 'em at pubs, we'd be traced. What we +want is gold--nothing but gold. And I'd be surprised if they have a +thousand sovereigns in the bank." + +"If they have," remarked Dolphin, "you'll get two-fifty. Isn't that good +enough?" + +"That's it," retorted his troublesome follower, "there's considerable +risk about the business, in spite of you fixing all the details so neat +and easy. I ask, 'Is it good enough to get about ten years for the sake +of L250?'" + +"Just what I thought," exclaimed Dolphin. "You're a cock-tail. In your +old age you've grown white-livered. I guess, Garstang, you'd better +retire, and leave those to carry out the work who don't know what fear +is." + +"That's so," echoed Carnac, drumming the table with his white fingers. + +"You don't ketch my meaning," growled Garstang, angry and surly. "What I +want is a big haul, and damn the risk. There's no white liver about +_me_, but I say, 'Let's wait till we've reason to know that the bank's +safe is heavily loaded.' I say, 'Wait till we know extra big payments +have been made into it.' Let's get all we can for our trouble." + +"'Ere, 'ere," said Sweet William. "I'm there. Same sentiment 'ere," and +he smote his narrow chest. + +"But how are we to find out the bank's business?" asked Dolphin. "Lor' +bless us, if the manager would tip us the wink, we'd be all right." + +"Get me took in as extry clerk," suggested William. "Blame me, if I +don't apply for the billet to-morrow morning." + +"Go on chiacking," said Garstang; "poke borak--it don't hurt _me_. But +if you want to do anything in a workmanlike and perfessional manner, +listen to advice. Isn't shipments of virgin gold made from the Coast? +Isn't such shipments made public by the newspapers? Very good. When we +see a steamer has brought up a pile of gold, where's it put but in the +bank? There's our chance. D'you follow? Then we'll be sure to get +something for our pains." + +"'Ere, 'ere!" cried Sweet William, smacking the now leering Garstang on +the back. "Good on you. Maximum return for minimum risk." + +Carnac joined in the laugh. "You're not so thick-headed after all," he +said to the crooked-faced man. + +"Nor 'e ain't so awful white-livered neither," said William. + +Dolphin, whose eyes were fixed on the table contemplatively, was silent +for a while. When the noise made by the other three had terminated, he +said, "Well, have it as you like. But how will the scheme fit in with +the steamer business?" + +"First rate," answered William. "Where there's gold there'll be a +steamer to take it away, won't there?" + +"And when the steamer doesn't get its gold at the appointed time," +replied Dolphin, "the whole town will be roused to hunt for it. That's +no game for us. I agree to waiting for gold to be lodged in the bank, +but if that does't come off within reasonable time, I'm for taking the +chance that's offered. I'm willing to wait a fortnight. How'd that suit +you, Garstang?" + +"I'm agreeable," said the sour-faced man. + +"And in the meanwhile," added the leader, "we don't know one another. If +we meet, we don't so much as pass the time of day. D'you all +understand?" + +The three answered affirmatively, and Sweet William said, "Don't never +any of you chaps come near my shanty. This meetin' stands adjourned +_sine die_." + +"If there's a notice in the newspaper of gold arriving, that means we +meet here at once," said Dolphin, "otherwise we meet this day fortnight. +Is that clear?" + +"Yes, that's clear," said Garstang. + +"Certainly," said Carnac, "perfectly clear." + +"An', please, when you go," said Sweet William, "don't raise the whole +neighbourhood, but make a git one by one, and disperse promiscuous, as +if you'd never met in your beautiful lives." + +The four men were now standing round the table. + +"Good night all," said Dolphin, and he went out quietly by the front +door. + +"Remember what the boss says about the wine," remarked William, when +the leader of the gang had gone. "No boozing and giving the show away. +You're to be strictly sober for a fortnight, Garstang. And, Carny, if +that girl at The Lucky Digger tries to pump you as to what your lay is, +tell 'er you've come to buy a little property and settle down. She'll +think you mean marrying." + +Carnac smiled. "You might be my grandfather, William," he said. + +"Personally, _I'm_ a shearer that's havin' a very mild sort of spree and +knockin' down his cheque most careful. You've bin aboard a ship, ain't +you, Garstang?" + +"D'you suppose I swam out to this blanky country?" said the +crooked-featured gentleman. + +"Then you're a sailor that's bin paid off and taken your discharge." + +Carnac had his hand on the latch of the door through which Dolphin had +disappeared. + +"No, no; you go out the back way," said William, who conducted the man +in the velvet coat into the back yard, and turned him into a paddock +full of cabbages, whence he might find his way as best he could to the +roadway. + +When the youthful William returned, Garstang was smoking; his elbows on +the table, and his ugly head resting in his hands. + +"You seem bloomin' comfortable, Garstang." + +"I'd be a darn sight more comfortabler for a drop of grog, William." + +William took a bottle from beneath his bed. + +"Just eleven o'clock," said the younger man, looking at his watch. "This +house closes punctual. You shall have one nip, mister, and then I chuck +you out." + +He poured the contents of the bottle into the solitary mug, and added +water from a jug with a broken lip. Then the two rogues drank +alternately. + +"What do you intend to do when you've made your pile, Garstang?" + +"Me? I'm goin' back to London and set up in a nice little public, +missis, barmaid, and boots, complete, and live a quiet, virtuous life. +That's me. I should prefer somewheres down Woolwich way--I'm very fond +of the military." + +"I'm goin' to travel," said William. "I'm anxious for to see things and +improve me mind. First, I'll go to America--I'm awful soft on the Yanks, +and can't help thinkin' that 'Frisco's the place for a chap with talent. +Then I'll work East and see New York, and by-and-by I'll go over to +Europe an' call on the principal Crown Heads--not the little 'uns, you +understand, like Portugal and Belgium, or fry of that sort: they ain't +no class--an' then I'll marry a real fine girl, a reg'lar top-notcher +with whips of dollars, an' go and live at Monte Carlo. How's that for a +programme, eh?" + +"Nice and complete. But I rayther expect the Crown 'Eads'd be one too +many for _you_. The Czar o' Rooshia, f'r instance, I fancy he'd exile +you to Siberia." + +"But that'd be agin international law an' all rule an' precedent--I'd +tell 'im I was a British subject born in Australia, and wrap a Union +Jack around me stummick, an' dare 'im to come on. How'd that be for +high?" + +"You'd be 'igh enough. You'd be 'anded over to th' British +authorities--they'd see you went 'igh enough. The experience of men of +our perfession is, lie very low, live very quiet, don't attract no +attention whatever--when you've succeeded in makin' your pile. That's +why I say a public: you've a few select pals, the best of liquor, and +just as much excitement as a ordinary man needs. I say that, upon +retirement, for men of our perfession a public's the thing." + +"How'd a theayter do?" + +"Too noisy an' unrestful, William. An' then think of all the +wimmen--they'd bother a man silly." + +"What d'you say to a song and dance 'all?" + +"'Tain't so bad. But them places, William, I've always noticed, has a +tendency to grow immoral. Now, a elderly gent, who's on the down-grade +and 'as _'ad_ 'is experiences, don't exactly want _that_. No, I'm dead +set on a public. I think that fills the bill completely." + +"But we can't _all_ go into the grog business." + +"I don't see why. 'Tain't as if we was a regiment of soldiers. There's +but four of us." + +"Oh, well, the liquor's finished. You can make a git, Garstang. But, if +you ask me what I'll do with this pile as soon as it's made, I say I +still have a hankerin' after the Crown Heads. They must be most +interestin' blokes to talk to: you see, they've had such experience. +I'm dead nuts on Crown Heads." + +"And they're dead nuts on the 'eads of the likes of you, William. +Good-night." + +"So-long, Garstang. Keep good." + +And with those words terminated the gathering of the four greatest +rogues who ever were in Timber Town. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +Gold and Roses. + + +The Pilot's daughter was walking in her garden. + +The clematis which shaded the verandah was a rich mass of purple +flowers, where bees sucked their store of honey; the rose bushes, in the +glory of their second blooming, scented the air, while about their roots +grew masses of mignonette. + +Along the winding paths the girl walked; a pair of garden scissors in +one hand and a basket in the other. She passed under a latticed arch +over which climbed a luxuriant Cloth of Gold, heavy with innumerable +flowers. Standing on tip-toe, with her arms above her head, she cut +half-a-dozen yellow buds, which she placed in the basket. Passing on, +she came to the pink glory of the garden, Maria Pare, a mass of brown +shoots and clusters of opening buds whose colour surpassed in delicacy +the softest tint of the pink sea-shell. Here she culled barely a dozen +roses where she might have gathered thirty. "Yellow and pink," she +mused. "Now for something bright." She walked along the path till she +came to M'sieu Cordier, brilliant with the reddest of blooms. She stole +but six of the best, and laid them in the basket. "We want more scent," +she said. There was La France growing close beside; its great petals, +pearly white on the inside and rich cerise without, smelling +deliciously. She robbed the bush of only its most perfect flowers, +for though there were many buds but few were developed. + +Next, she came to the type of her own innocence, The Maiden Blush, +whose half-opened buds are the perfect emblem of maidenhood, but whose +full-blown flowers are, to put it bluntly, symbolical of her who, in +middle life, has developed extravagantly. But here again was no perfume. +The mistress passed on to the queen of the garden, La Rosiere, fragrant +beyond all other roses, its reflexed, claret-coloured petals soft and +velvety, its leaves--when did a rose's greenery fail to be its perfect +complement?--tinged underneath with a faint blush of its own deep +colour. + +She looked at the yellow, red, and pink flowers in her basket, and said, +"There's no white." Now white roses are often papery, but there was at +least one in the garden worthy of being grouped with the beauties in the +basket. It was The Bride, typical, in its snowy chastity and by reason +of a pale green tint at the base of its petals, of that purity and +innocence which are the bride's best dowry. + +Rose cut a dozen long-stemmed flowers from this lovely bush, and +then--whether it was because of the sentiment conveyed by the blooms +she had gathered, or the effect of the landscape, is a mystery +unsolved--her eyes wandered from the garden to the far-off hills. With +the richly-laden basket on her arm, she gazed at the blue haze which +hung over mountain and forest. Regardless of her pleasant occupation, +forgetful that the fragrant flowers in the basket would wither in the +glaring sun, she stood, looking sadly at the landscape, as though in a +dream. + +What were her thoughts? Perhaps of the glorious work of the +Master-Builder; perhaps of the tints and shades where the blue of the +forest, the brown of the fern-clad foot-hills, the buff of the sun-dried +grass, mottled the panorama which lay spread before her. But if so, +why did she sigh? Does the contour of a hill suffuse the eye? Not a +hundred-thousand hills could in themselves cause a sob, not even the +gentle sob which amounted to no more than a painful little catch in +Rose's creamy throat. + +She was standing on the top of the bank, which was surmounted by a white +fence; her knee resting on the garden-seat upon which she had placed +her basket, whilst in reverie her spirit was carried beyond the blue +mountains. But there appeared behind her the bulky form of her father, +who walked in carpet slippers upon the gravel of the path. + +"Rosebud, my gal." The stentorian tones of the old sailor's voice woke +her suddenly from her day-dream. "There's a party in the parlour waitin' +the pleasure of your company, a party mighty anxious for to converse +with a clean white woman by way of a change." + +The girl quickly took up her flowers. + +"Who can it possibly be, father?" + +"Come and see, my gal; come and see." + +The old fellow went before, and his daughter followed him into the +house. There, in the parlour, seated at the table, was Captain Sartoris. + +Rose gave way to a little exclamation of surprise and pleasure; and was +advancing to greet her visitor, when he arrested her with a gesture of +his hand. + +"Don't come too nigh, Miss Summerhayes," he said, with mock gravity. "I +might ha' got the plague or the yaller fever. A man out o' currantine is +to be approached with caution. Jest stand up agin' the sideboard, my +dear, and let me look at you." The girl put down her roses, and posed as +desired. + +"Very pretty," said Sartoris. "Pink-and-white, pure bred, +English--which, after being boxed in with a menag'ry o' Chinamen and +Malays, is wholesome and reassuring." + +"Are you out for good, Captain?" + +"They can put me aboard who can catch me, my dear. I'd run into the +bush, and live like a savage. I'm not much of a mountaineer, but you +would see how I could travel." + +"But what was the disease?" asked the Pilot. + +"Some sort of special Chinese fever; something bred o' dirt and filth +and foulness; a complaint you have to live amongst for weeks, before +you'll get it; a kind o' beri-beri or break-bone, which was new to the +doctors here. I've been disinfected and fumigated till I couldn't hardly +breathe. Races has their special diseases, just the same as they has +their special foods: this war'n't an English sickness; all its +characteristics were Chinee, and it killed the Captain because he'd +lived that long with Chinamen that, I firmly believe, his pigtail had +begun to shoot. Furrin crews, furrin crews! Give me the British sailor, +an' I'll sail my ship anywhere." + +"And run her on the rocks, at the end of the voyage," growled the Pilot. + +"I never came ashore to argify," retorted the Captain. "But if it comes +to a matter of navigation, there _are_ points I could give any man, even +pilots." + +Seeing that the bone of contention was about to be gnawed by the +sea-dogs, Rose interposed with a question. + +"Have you just come ashore, Captain?" + +"In a manner o' speakin' he has," answered her father, who took the +words out of his friend's mouth, "and in a manner o' speakin' he hasn't. +You see, my dear, we went for a little preliminary cruise." + +"The first thing your father told me was about this here robbery of +mails. 'When was that?' I asked. 'On the night of the 8th or early +morning of the 9th,' he says. That was when the captain of the barque +died. I remembered it well. 'Summerhayes,' I said, 'I have a notion.' +And this is the result, my dear." + +From the capacious pocket of his thick pilot-jacket he pulled a brown +and charred piece of canvas. + +"What's that?" he asked. + +"I haven't the least idea," replied Rose. + +"Does it look as though it might be a part of a mail-bag?" asked +Sartoris. "Look at the sealing-wax sticking to it. Now look at _that_." +He drew from the deep of another pocket a rusty knife. + +"It was found near the other," he said. "Its blade was open. And what's +that engraved on the name-plate?--your eyes are younger than mine, my +dear." The sailor handed the knife to Rose, who read the name, and +exclaimed, "B. Tresco!" + +"That's what the Pilot made it," said Sartoris. "And it's what I made +it. We're all agreed that B. Tresco, whoever he may be, was the owner of +that knife. Now this is evidence: that knife was found in conjunction +with this here bit of brown canvas, which I take to be part of a +mail-bag; and the two of 'em were beside the ashes of a fire, above high +water-mark. On a certain night I saw a fire lighted at that spot: that +night was the night the skipper of the barque died and the night when +the mails were robbed. You see, when things are pieced together it looks +bad for B. Tresco." + +"I know him quite well," said Rose: "he's the goldsmith. What would he +have to do with the delivery of mails?" + +"Things have got this far," said the Pilot. "The postal authorities say +all the bags weren't delivered on board. They don't accuse anyone of +robbery as yet, but they want the names of the boat's crew. These Mr. +Crookenden says he can't give, as the crew was a special one, and the +man in charge of the boat is away. But from the evidence that Sartoris +has brought, it looks as if Tresco could throw light on the matter." + +"It's for the police to take the thing up," said Sartoris. "I'm not a +detective meself; I'm just a plain sailor--I don't pretend to be good at +following up clues. But if the police want this here clue, they can have +it. It's the best one of its kind I ever come across: look at it from +whatever side you please. It's almost as perfect a clue as you could +have, if you had one made to order. A policeman that couldn't follow up +that clue----'Tresco' on the knife, and, alongside of it, the bit of +mail-bag--why, he ought to be turned loose in an unsympathising world, +and break stones for a living. It's a beautiful clue. It's a clue a man +can take a pride in; found all ready on the beach; just a-waitin' to be +picked up, and along comes a chuckle-headed old salt and grabs it. Now, +that clue ought to be worth a matter of a hundred pound to the +Government. What reward is offered, Pilot?" + +"There's none, as I'm aware of," answered Summerhayes. "But if the +post-master is a charitable sort of chap, he might be inclined to +recommend, say, fifty; you bein' a castaway sailor in very 'umble +circumstances. I'll see what I can do. I'll see the Mayor." + +"Oh, you will!" exclaimed Sartoris. "You'd better advertise: 'Poor, +distressed sailor. All contributions thankfully received.' No, sir, +don't think you can pauperise _me_. A man who can find a clue like +that"--he brought the palm of his right hand down with a smack upon the +table, where Tresco's knife lay--"a man who can find that, sir, can make +his way in any community!" + +Just at that moment there were heavy footsteps upon the verandah, and a +knocking at the front door. + +Rose, who was sitting near the window, made a step or two towards the +passage, but the old Pilot, who from where he stood could see through +the glass of the front door, forestalled her, and she seated herself +opposite the skipper and his clues. + +"So you think of visiting the police sergeant?" she asked, by way of +keeping up the conversation. + +But the skipper's whole attention was fixed on the voices in the next +room, into which the Pilot had conducted his visitor. + +"H'm," said Sartoris, "I had an idea I knew the voice, but I must have +been mistaken. Who is the party, Miss Rose?" + +"I haven't the slightest clue," replied the girl, smiling. "Father has +such a number of strange friends in the port that I've long given up +trying to keep count of them. They come at all hours, about all sorts of +things." + +The words were hardly out of her mouth, when the Pilot, wearing a most +serious expression of face, entered the room. + +"Well, well," he said, "well, well. Who'd ha' thought it? Dear, dear. Of +all the extraordinary things! Now, Cap'n Sartoris, if you'd 'a' asked +_me_, I'd 'a' said the thing was impossible, impossible. Such things +goes in streaks, and his, to all intents and purposes, was a bad 'n; and +then it turns out like this. It's most remarkable, most extraordinary. +It's beyond me. I don't fathom it." + +"What the deuce an' all are you talkin' about, Summerhayes?" Sartoris +spoke most deprecatingly. "A man would think you'd buried a shipmate, or +even lost your ship." + +"Eh? What?" the Pilot thundered. "Lost my ship? No, no. I've bin wrecked +in a fruiter off the coast of Sardinia, an' I've bin cast away on the +island of Curacoa, but it was always in another man's vessel. No, sir, +_I_ never failed to bring the owners' property safe into port. Any fool +can run his ship on shore, and litter her cargo along half-a-mile of sea +coast." + +"We've heard that argyment before," said Sartoris. "We quite +understand--you couldn't do such a thing if you tried. You're a most +exceptional person, and I'm proud to know you; but what's this dreadful +thing that's redooced you to such a state of bad temper, that your best +friends 'd hardly know you? I ask you that, Summerhayes. Is it anything +to do with these clues that's on the table?" + +"Clues be----!" It is sad to relate that the Pilot of Timber Town +was about to use a strong expression, which only the presence of his +daughter prevented. "Come out of that room there," he roared. "Come, an' +show yourself." + +There was a heavy tread in the passage, and presently there entered the +room a very shabby figure of a man. A ruddy beard obscured his face; his +hair badly needed cutting; his boots were dirty and much worn; his hands +bore marks of hard work, but his eyes were bright, and the colour of his +cheek was healthy, and for all the noise he made as he walked there was +strength in his movements and elasticity in his steps. + +Without a word of introduction, he held out his hand to Miss +Summerhayes, who took it frankly. + +Captain Sartoris had risen to his feet. + +"How d'y do, sir," he said, as he shook hands. "I hope I see you well, +sir. Have you come far, or do you live close handy?" + +"I've come a matter of twenty miles or so to-day," said the tall +stranger. + +"Farming in the bush, I suppose," said Sartoris. "Very nice occupation, +farming, I should think." He closely eyed the ragged man. "Or perhaps +you fell down a precipice of jagged stones which tore you considerable. +Anyhow, I'm glad I see you well, sir, _very_ glad I see you well." + +There was a rumbling noise like the echo of distant thunder +reverberating through the hills. Rose and Sartoris almost simultaneously +fixed their eyes upon the Pilot. + +Summerhayes's huge person was heaving with suppressed merriment, his +face was red, and his mouth was shut tight lest he should explode with +laughter. But when he saw the two pairs of bewildered eyes staring at +him, he burst into a laugh such as made the wooden walls of the house +quiver. + +Sartoris stood, regarding the Pilot as though he trembled for his +friend's senses; and a look of alarm showed itself in Rose's face. + +"You don't know him!" cried the Pilot, pulling himself together. But +the Titanic laughter again took hold of him, and shook his vast frame. +"You've travelled with him, you've sailed with him, you've known him, +Sartoris--you've bin shipwrecked with him!" Here the paroxysm seized the +Pilot anew; and when it had subsided it left him exhausted and feeble. +He sank limply upon the old-fashioned sofa, and said, almost in a +whisper, "It's Jack Scarlett, and you didn't know him; Jack Scarlett, +back from the diggings, with his swag full of gold--and you thought him +a stranger." + +It was now the turn of Rose and the skipper to laugh. Jack, who up to +this point had kept a straight face, joined his merriment to theirs, and +rushing forward they each shook him by the hand again, but in a totally +different manner from that of their former greeting. + +Out of his "jumper" the fortunate digger pulled a long chamois-leather +bag, tied at the neck with a boot-lace. Taking a soup-plate from the +sideboard, he emptied the contents of the bag into it, and before the +astonished eyes of the onlookers lay a heap of yellow gold. + +They stared, and were speechless. + +From about his waist Scarlett untied a long leather belt, which proved +to be lined with gold. But the soup-plate would hold no more, and so the +lucky digger poured the residue in a heap upon the polished table. Next, +he went out to the verandah, and undoing his swag, he returned with a +tin canister which had been wrapped in his blankets. This also was full +of gold, and taking off its lid, he added its contents to the pile upon +the table. + +"And there's some left in camp," he said. "I couldn't carry it all to +town." + +"Well, well," said Sartoris, "while I've been boxed up in that stinking +plague-ship, I might ha' been on God A'mighty's earth, picking up stuff +like this. Well, well, what luck!" + +"There must be a matter o' two thousand pound," said the Pilot. "Two +thousand pound!" + +"More," said Jack. "There should be about 800 ozs., valued at something +like L3000; and this is the result of but our first washing-up." + +"Good lord, what luck!" exclaimed the Pilot. "As I always have said, it +comes in streaks. Now, Jack, here, has had his streak o' bad luck, and +now he's got into a new streak, and it's so good that it's like to turn +him crazy before he comes to the end of it. If you want to know the real +truth about things, ask an old sailor--he won't mislead you." + +But all that Rose said was, "How nice it must be to meet with such +success." + +"By George, I was almost forgetting our bargain," exclaimed Scarlett. He +took from his pocket a little linen bag, which he handed to Rose. "Those +are the nuggets you wanted--glad to be able to keep my promise." + +The girl untied the neck of the small bag, and three heavy pieces of +gold tumbled on the table. + +"I can't take them," she exclaimed. "They're worth too much. I can't +make any adequate return." + +"I hope you won't try. Pilot, she _must_ take them." + +"Take 'em? Of course. Why, Rosebud, his luck would leave him to-morrer, +if you was to stop him keeping his promise. You're bound to take 'em." + +Rose weighed the bits of virgin gold in the palm of her little hand. + +"Of course, I never really meant you to give me any of your gold," she +said. "I only spoke in joke." + +"Then it's a joke I should make pretty often, if I were you," said +Sartoris. "You don't seem to know when you're well off." + +"I take it under compulsion; hoping that you'll find so much more that +you won't feel the loss of this." + +"There's no fear of that," said Jack. "As for repayment, I hope you +won't mention it again." + +"I'll have to give it you in good wishes." + +The basket of roses stood on the table. Jack looked at the beautifully +blended colours, and stooped to smell the sweet perfume. "I'll take one +of these," he said, "--the one you like the best." + +The girl took a bud of La Rosiere, dark, velvety, fragrant, perfect. +"I'm in love with them all," she said, "but this is my favourite." + +She handed the bud to Jack, who put it in the button-hole of his worn +and shabby coat. + +"Thanks," he said, "I'm more than repaid." + +Sartoris burst out laughing. + +"Don't you feel a bit in the way, Summerhayes?" he said. "I do. When +these young things exchange love-tokens, it's time we went into the next +room." + +"No," laughed the Pilot, "we won't budge. The gal gets twenty-pound +worth of gold, and offers a rose in return. It's a beautiful flower, no +doubt; but how would a slice of mutton go, after 'damper' and 'billy' +tea? Rosebud, my gal, go and get Mr. Scarlett something to eat." + +Joining in the laugh, Rose went into her kitchen, and Jack commenced to +pack up his gold, in order that the table might be laid for dinner. + +But if you come to think of it, there may have been a great deal in his +request, and even more in the girl's frank bestowal. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +The Foundation of the Gold League. + + +Mr. Crewe sat in the Timber Town Club with his satellite, Cathro, beside +him. The old gentleman was smoking a well-seasoned briar pipe, from +which he puffed clouds of smoke contemplatively, as he watched the +gesticulations of a little man who was arguing with a gentleman who wore +riding-breeches and leggings. + +"I tell you, sir," said the little man, "that there is not the vestige +of proof that the mails were stolen, not the slightest scintilla of +truth in the suspicion." + +"Then what became of them?" asked the other, as he fixed a gold +horse-shoe pin more securely in his tie. + +"What became of them?" exclaimed the little man. "They were washed +overboard, washed overboard and lost." + +"But," said the man of horses, "I happened to be riding home late that +night, and, I assure you, there was not a breath of wind; the sea was as +smooth as glass." + +"That might be," retorted the little man, who was now pacing up and down +in front of his adversary in a most excited fashion. "That might be, but +there is a lot of surge and swell about a steamer, especially in the +neighbourhood of the screw, and it is very possible, I may say highly +probable, that the missing bags were lost as the mail was being passed +up the side." + +"But how would that affect the incoming mail?" asked the other. "Did +that drop over the side, too?" + +"No, sir," said the diminutive man, drawing himself up to his full +height. "There is nothing to prove that the incoming mail was anything +but complete. We are honest people in Timber Town, sir. I do not believe +we have in the entire community men capable of perpetrating so vile a +crime." He turned to the Father of Timber Town for corroboration. "I +appeal to you, Mr. Crewe; to you, sir, who have known the town from its +inception." + +Mr. Crewe drew his pipe from his mouth, and said, with great +deliberation, "Well, that is, ah--that is a very difficult question. I +may say that though Timber Town is remarkably free from crime, still I +have known rascals here, and infernal dam' rascals, too." + +The little man fairly bristled with indignation at this remark. He was +about to refute the stigma laid on his little pet town, when the door +opened and in walked Scarlett, dressed still in his travel-stained +clothes, and with his beard unshorn. + +His appearance was so strange, that the little argumentative man +believed an intruder, of low origin and objectionable occupation, had +invaded the sacred precincts of his club. + +"I beg your pardon, but what does this mean, sir?" he asked; immense +importance in his bearing, gesture, and tone. "You have made some +mistake, sir. I should like to know if your name has been duly entered +in the visitors' book, and by whom, sir?" + +Taking no notice of these remarks, Jack walked straight across the room, +and held out his hand to Mr. Crewe. The white-haired old gentleman was +on his feet in a moment. He took the proffered hand, and said, with a +politeness which was as easy as it was natural, "What is it I can do for +you, sir? If you will step this way, we can talk quite comfortably in +the ante-room." + +Jack laughed. "I don't believe you know me," he said. + +"'Pon my honour, you're right. I don't," said Mr. Crewe. + +Jack laughed again, a thing which in a non-member almost caused the +pompous little man to explode with indignation. + +"I'm the fellow, you know, who went to look for the new gold-field," +said Jack, "and by the lord! I've found it." + +"Scarlett! Is it you?" exclaimed old Mr. Crewe. "You have got it? My +dear sir, this is good news; this is excellent news! You have found +the new gold-field? This is really remarkable, this is indeed most +fortunate! This is the happiest day I have seen for a long while!" + +"Eh? What? what?" said Cathro, who was on his feet too. "Is it rich?" + +"Rich?" said Jack. Taking a bank deposit-receipt from his pocket, he +handed it to Cathro. + +"Good God!" cried he, eyeing the figures on the paper, "it's a fortune." + +Mr. Crewe had his gold spectacles upon his nose and the paper in his +hand in a moment. "Three thousand one hundred and eighty-seven pounds!" +he exclaimed. "Well, well, that is luck! And where's your mate, +Scarlett? Where is Moonlight?" + +"He's on the claim." + +"On the claim? Then there's still gold in sight?" + +"We've but scratched the surface," said Jack. "This is only the +foretaste of what's to come." + +The important little man, who had eagerly listened to all that had been +said, was hovering round the group, like an excited cock sparrow. + +"Really!" he exclaimed, "this is most interesting, very interesting +indeed. A remarkable event, Mr. Crewe, a most remarkable event. Do me +the honour, sir, to introduce me to your friend." + +"Mr. Tonks, Scarlett," said the old gentleman. "Allow me to introduce +Mr. Tonks." + +Jack greeted the little man politely, and then turning to Cathro, said, +"We've pegged off four men's claims; so, Cathro, you'll have to turn +digger, and go back with me to the field." + +"But my dear sir," replied Cathro, whose shrivelled form betokened no +great physical strength, "my dear Scarlett, am I to do pick-and-shovel +work? Am I to trundle a barrow? Am I to work up to my waist in water, +and sleep in a tent? My dear sir, I cannot dig; to beg I am ashamed." + +Scarlett threw back his head, and laughed. "Oh, that's nothing," he +said. "It's the getting there with a 70lb. swag on your back that's the +trouble. The country is a mass of ranges; the bush is as thick as a +jungle, and there's nothing but a blazed track to go by. But your claim +is waiting for you. What do you intend doing with it?" + +The attenuated Cathro sank on a couch despairingly. "I think I'll sell +it," he said. "I'll sell it to Tonks here, I'll sell it for L1000 down, +and be content with small profits and quick returns." + +The little man, important that he should be referred to as good for so +substantial an amount, strutted up and down, like a bantam on whom the +eyes of the fowl-yard rested. However, the gentleman, dressed for +riding, was beforehand with him. + +"It's an open offer, I suppose," he said. + +"Certainly," replied Cathro. "I don't care who gets my claim, so long as +I get the money." + +"Then it's concluded," said the horsey man. "I buy the claim." + +"Done," said Cathro. "The matter is closed. The claim is yours. Now, +that's how I like to do business; just a straight offer and a prompt +acceptance. Scarlett, this is Mr. Chesterman. He takes my place. You can +take him over the ranges and along the blazed track: no doubt, you'll +find him a better bushman than myself. Chesterman is accustomed to carry +a 70lb. swag; he'll make an excellent beast of burden. I wish you luck, +Chesterman." + +"But don't you think," said Mr. Crewe, turning to the horsey man, "don't +you think you're rather hasty in buying for such a large sum a property +you have never seen?" + +"I've been on several gold-fields," said Chesterman, "and I have had +good luck on all of them. My method has always been to act on the first +information of a discovery. A field is always richest at the beginning +of the rush, and I know by experience that the picked claims, on a new +field that yields such results as this does on the first washing, are +worth having. I start to-morrow. Is it possible to get a horse through?" + +"No," replied the pioneer, "not the slightest chance of it. Until a +track is cut, it will be quite impossible; but if you're good in the +bush you can follow the blaze, when once you have struck it." + +At this moment, there entered the room a very imposing person. He was +quite six feet high, and broad in proportion; his frank and open face +was adorned with a crisp, gold-coloured beard. He was dressed in a +rough, grey, tweed suit, and carried a newspaper in his hand. Big men +are not usually excitable, but the blue eyes of this Hercules were +ablaze with suppressed emotion. In a voice that sounded like a cathedral +bell, he said, without preface or introduction, so that the room rang +again, "Listen. 'Gold discovery in the Eastern ranges. There has arrived +in town a lucky digger who is said to have sold, this morning, some 800 +ounces of gold to the Kangaroo Bank. It is understood that the precious +metal came from a new gold-field on Bush Robin Creek, which lies +somewhere Eastward of the Dividing Range. From accounts received, it +would appear that a field of unequalled richness has been opened up, and +that a phenomenal rush to the new El Dorado will shortly set in. All +holders of Miners' Rights are entitled to peg off claims.' Gentlemen, I +have been to the Kangaroo Bank," continued the giant, "and I have seen +the gold myself. It is different from any sold here hitherto, barring +some 70 ounces, which were brought in a few weeks ago, from the same +locality. So, you see, we have had a gold rush created at our very +doors. I propose that all the men present form themselves into a +committee to wait upon the local representative of the Minister for +Mines--that, I take it, would be the Commissioner for Lands--and urge +the construction of a graded track to the new field." + +"A very good suggestion," said Mr. Crewe, "a very good suggestion. For +if you want to get these Government people to do anything, by Jupiter, +you need to commence early. We'll go along, if you are willing, +gentlemen; we'll go in a body to the Red Tape Office, and see what can +be done. But before we go, let us drink the health of Mr. Scarlett, +here. He has done remarkably well in bringing this discovery to light, +and I ask you to drink to his continued good luck, at my expense, +gentlemen, entirely at my expense." + +The steward of the club, a thin, dark man, with black eyes which were +watchful and merry, went quietly round the room, which was now filled +with men, and took their orders. Then he disappeared. + +"I think, gentlemen," continued Mr. Crewe, "that, as the oldest colonist +present, I may be allowed to express an opinion. I think I may say, +without fear of contradiction, that I have watched the development of +many gold-fields in my time, and have benefited by not a few; and, +gentlemen, from the description given by our friend, here, this new +field is likely to prove the richest of them all. By far the best thing +is for the younger men amongst us to go and prove the thing. I should +recommend a party being formed under the guidance of Mr. Scarlett, and +that it should start as soon as possible. I would go myself if I were a +few years younger, and I _will_ go so soon as the track is cut. I +shall see the field myself. But I am really too old to contend with +supple-jacks and 'lawyers' and the thick undergrowth of the bush. I +should only be in your way. I should only be a nuisance." + +The quick-eyed steward, who, by a method of memory known only to +himself, had retained in his mind the correct list of the strange and +various liquors ordered, now appeared with a gigantic tray, on which he +bore a multitude of glasses. These he deftly handed round, and then all +present rose to their feet. + +"Mr. Scarlett," said the Father of Timber Town. "I ask you to drink his +health and continued good luck." + +The ceremony over, Jack stood up. + +"It's awfully good of you," he said, "to give me the credit of this new +'find,' but as a matter of fact I have had little to do with it. The +real discoverer is the man who came in from the bush, some six weeks +ago, and painted the town red. After doing him justice, you should pay +your respects to my mate, Moonlight, who is more at home in the bush +than he is in town. To him you owe the declaration of the new field. I +shall be returning in a day or two, and I shall be glad to take with me +any of you who care to come. I promise you a rough journey, but there is +good gold at the end of it." + +He raised his glass to his lips, drained it, and sat down. + +"We must organise," said the giant who had read from the newspaper, "we +must form ourselves into some sort of a company, for mutual strength and +support." + +The notion of so big a man calling upon his fellows for help did not +seem to strike anybody as peculiar, if not pathetic. + +"Chair, chair," cried the pompous Mr. Tonks. "I propose that Mr. Crewe +be placed in the chair." + +"Hear, hear." + +"Unity is strength." + +"Limited liability----" + +"Order! ORDER!" + +"Let me have my say." + +"Sit down, old fellow; nobody wants to hear you." + +Amid this babel of voices, old Mr. Crewe rose, and waited for the +attention of his audience. + +When every eye was riveted on him, he said, "Though I discerned the +importance of this discovery, I was not prepared, gentlemen, for the +interest you have so warmly expressed. It is a fact that this is the +commencement of a new era in the history of Timber Town. We are about +to enter upon a new phase of our existence, and from being the centre +of an agricultural district, we are to become a mining town with all the +bustle and excitement attendant upon a gold rush. Under the mining laws, +each of you has as much right as my friend Scarlett, here, to a digger's +claim upon this field, provided only that you each obtain a Miner's +Right and peg off the ground legitimately. But I understand that the +desire is to unite for mutual benefit. That is to say, you desire to +pool your interests and divide the proceeds. The first thing, then, +is for each man to peg off his claim. That done, you can work the +properties conjointly under the supervision of a committee, pay the +gross takings into a common account, and divide the profits. In this +way the owner of a duffer claim participates equally with the owner of +a rich one. In other words, there is less risk of failure--I might say, +no risk at all--but also much temptation. Such a scheme would be quite +impossible except amongst gentlemen, but I should imagine that where men +hold honour to be more precious than money, none will risk his good name +for a little gold. First, it must be the association of working miners; +secondly, a company of gentlemen. Unless a man feels he can comply with +these two conditions, he had best stand aside." + +"It would be too late for a man to think of backing out," interrupted +the bearded Hercules, "after he had turned thief by performing the +Ananias trick of keeping back part of his gains: that man would probably +leave the field quicker than he went, and poorer." + +"Or possibly he might not leave it at all," interjected Chesterman. + +"However that might be," continued Mr. Crewe, "the object of all present +is, I understand, to act in unison. There will be hundreds of diggers on +the field before very long, and in many cases claims will be jumped and +gold will be stolen, in spite of the Warden and the constabulary. You +will be wise, therefore, to co-operate for mutual protection, if for no +other reason." + +"Name, title?" + +"What shall the association be called?" + +A dozen names were suggested by as many men. Some were offered in jest, +some in earnest; but none met with approval. When the tempest of voices +was past, Mr. Crewe said, "The association must have a name; certainly, +it must have a name. It is not to be a company, registered under the +Act. It is not to be a syndicate, or a trust. It is simply a league, +composed of gentlemen who intend to stand beside each other, and divide +the profits of their enterprise. If you cannot consolidate your claims, +you must work them individually. I shall therefore suggest that you call +yourselves The Timber Town Gold League. Your articles of agreement can +be drawn up in half-an-hour, and you can all sign them before you leave +this room." Here Scarlett whispered to Mr. Crewe, who scrutinised his +hearers, and then said, "To be sure; certainly. Whilst Bulstrode, here, +who is a lawyer and should know his business, is drawing up the +document, Scarlett asks you to drink to the prosperity of the new +league." + +The suggested ceremony necessitated more speeches, but when they were +finished the lawyer read the articles of association. Strangely enough, +they were devoid of legal technicalities, and consisted of four +clearly-worded clauses, destitute of legal fiction, to which all +present readily subscribed their names. + +That done, they drank to the prosperity of The Timber Town Gold League. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +Women's Ways. + +Scarlett had a day upon his hands while his gold-seeking _confreres_ of +the League made their preparations for the journey to Bush Robin Creek. +To loiter about the town meant that he would be pestered with questions +regarding the locality of the new "field," which, until his friends' +"claims" were pegged off, it was desirous to keep secret. He decided, +therefore, to re-visit the scene of the wreck of _The Mersey Witch_. + +On a mount, lent him by Chesterman, he was on his way to the Maori _pa_, +before the town was stirring. The road, which he had never traversed +before, wound its tortuous way along the shore for some eight miles, and +then struck inland across the neck of a wooded peninsula, on the further +side of which the rugged and rocky shore was fringed with virgin forest. +He had reached the thick and shady "bush" which covered the isthmus, +where the dew of the morning still lay cool on leaf and frond, and the +great black boles of the forest giants stood sentinel amid the verdant +undergrowth, when he overtook a girl who was walking towards the _pa_. + +Her dress was peculiar; she wore a short Maori mat over her shoulders, +and a blue petticoat fell from waist to ankle, while her head and feet +were bare. + +Jack reined in his horse, and asked if he was on the road which led to +the _pa_, when the girl turned her merry, brown face, with its red lips +and laughing, brown eyes, and said in English as good as his own, "Good +morning. Yes, this is the road to the _pa_. Why, you were the last +person I expected to see." She held up her hand to him, to greet him in +European fashion. + +"Amiria!" he exclaimed. "How _are_ you? It's quite appropriate to meet +you here--I'm on my way to the wreck, to see how the old ship looks, if +there is anything of her left. How far is it to the _pa_?" + +"About two miles." + +"What brings you so far, at this time of the morning?" + +"You passed a settler's house, half-a-mile back." + +"Yes, a house built of slabs." + +"I have been there to take the woman some fish--our people made a big +haul this morning." + +Jack dismounted, and, hooking his arm through the bridle, he walked +beside the Maori girl. + +"Why didn't you ride, Amiria?" + +"My horse is turned out on the hills at the back of the _pa_, and it's +too much trouble to bring him in for so short a ride. Besides, the walk +won't hurt me: if I don't take exercise I shall lose my figure." She +burst into a merry laugh, for she knew that, as she was then dressed, +her beauty depended on elasticity of limb and sweetness of face rather +than upon shape and fashion. + +"I'll show you the wreck," she said. "It lies between us and the _pa_. +It looks a very harmless place in calm weather with the sun shining on +the smooth sea. The tide is out, so we ought to be able to reach the +wreck without swimming." + +They had come now to the edge of the "bush," and here Scarlett tied his +horse to the bough of a tree; and with Amiria he paced the soft and +sparkling sands, to which the road ran parallel. + +The tide was low, as the girl had said, and the jagged rocks on which +the bones of the ship lay stranded, stood black and prominent above the +smooth water. The inner reefs were high and dry, and upon the slippery +corrugations of the rocks, covered with seaweed and encrusted with +shell-fish, the two walked; the Maori girl barefooted and agile, the +Englishman heavily shod and clumsy. + +Seeing the difficulty of Scarlett's advance, Amiria held out her hand to +him, and so linked they approached the sea. A narrow belt of water +separated them from the reef on which the wreck lay, and to cross this +meant immersion. + +"The tide is not as low as I thought," said Amiria. "At low spring-tide +you can walk, almost dry-shod, to the other side." + +"I'm afraid we can't reach it without a ducking," said Scarlett. + +"But you can swim?" + +Scarlett laughed. "It's hardly good enough to ride home in wet clothes." +He divined Amiria's meaning, but pretended otherwise. + +Then she laughed, too. "But I have a plan," she said. Without a word +more, she threw off her flax cape and dropped into the water. A few +strokes and she had reached the further reef. "It will be all right," +she cried, "I think I can ferry you across on a raft." + +She walked over the sharp rocks as though her feet were impervious, and +clambering through a great rent in the vessel's side, she disappeared. + +When next Jack caught sight of her she was perched on the top of the +battered poop, whence she called, "I'll roll a cask over the rocks, and +get you across. There's a big chest in the saloon that belongs to you." + +She disappeared again, and when Jack next saw her, she was rolling a +huge barrel with difficulty towards the channel. + +"It's a quarter-full of sand," she cried, "and when you stand it on its +end it is ballasted. You'll be able to come over quite dry." + +Launching the cask, she pushed it before her as she swam, and soon +clambered up beside Scarlett. + +"It's bunged, I see," said he. + +"I did it with a piece of wood," said she. + +Then, booted and spurred, Jack placed himself cross-legged on the cask, +and so was ferried across the intervening strip of water. + +The main deck of the vessel was washed away, but the forecastle and poop +remained more or less intact. The ship, after settling on the rock, had +broken her back, and the great timbers, where the copper sheathing and +planks had been torn away, stood up like naked ribs supporting nothing. + +Walking upon an accumulation of sand and debris, the Maori girl and Jack +passed from the hold to what was left of the main deck, and entered the +saloon. All the gilding and glory had departed. Here a cabin door lay +on the floor, there the remains of the mahogany table lay broken in a +corner. A great sea-chest, bearing Scarlett's name upon its side, stood +in the doorway that led to the captain's cabin. Full of sand, the box +looked devoid of worth and uninviting, but Scarlett, quickly taking a +piece of board, began to scoop out the sodden contents. As he stooped, +a ray of sunlight pierced the shattered poop-deck and illumined his +yellow hair. Attracted by the glitter, Amiria put out her hand and +stroked his head. + +Jack looked up. + +"Isn't that a bit familiar?" he asked. + +Amiria laughed. "Not from the girl who saved you. If I hadn't pulled you +out of the water, it might seem a great thing to touch you, but I know +you so well that really it doesn't matter." + +Jack buried his head in the chest. This relationship between preserver +and preserved was new to him: he hardly knew what to make of it. But the +humour of the situation dawned on him, and he laughed. + +"By George, I'm at your mercy," he said, and, standing up, with his back +still towards her, he laughed again. "You've appropriated me, just as +your people appropriated the contents of this box and the rest of the +wreckage. You'll have to be put in charge of the police for a little +thief." And again his laugh rang through the ruined saloon. + +Remarking that the girl made no reply to this sally, he glanced towards +her, to find that she had turned her back upon him and was sobbing in a +corner. Leaving his task of clearing out the sea-chest, he went towards +her, and said, "I'm awfully sorry, Amiria, if I've said anything that +hurt your feelings. I really didn't mean to." He had yet to learn that +a Maori can bear anything more easily than laughter which seems to be +derisive. + +As the girl continued to cry, he placed his hand upon her shoulder. +"Really, Amiria, I meant nothing. I would be the last person on earth +to hurt your feelings. I don't forget what I owe you. I can never repay +you. If I have been clumsy, I ask your pardon." He held up her head, and +looked into her tear-stained face. "You'll forgive me, won't you?" + +The girl, her still untutored nature half-hidden beneath a deceptive +covering of _Pakeha_ culture, broke into a torrent of Maori quite +unintelligible to the white man, but as it ended in a bright smile +bursting out from behind her tears, he knew that peace was made. + +"Thank you," he said; "we're friends again." + +In a moment, she had thrown her arms about him and had burst into a +rhapsody in her native tongue, and, though he understood not one word of +it, he knew intuitively that it was an expression of passionate +affection. + +The situation was now more awkward than before. To rebuff her a second +time would be to break his word and wound her more deeply than ever. So +he let this new burst of feeling spend itself, and waited for her to +return to her more civilised self. + +When she did, she spoke in English. "You mustn't judge me by the +_Pakeha_ girls you know. My people aren't like yours--we have different +ways. White girls are cold and silent when they feel most--I know them: +I went to school with them--but _we_ show our feelings. Besides, I have +a claim on you which no white girl has. No white girl would have pulled +you out of the surf, as I did. And if I showed I cared for you then, why +shouldn't I show it now? Perhaps the _Pakeha_ would blame me, but I +can't always be thinking of your _ritenga_. In the town I do as the +white woman does; out here I follow the Maori _ritenga_. But whichever +_ritenga_ it is, I love you; and if you love me in return, I am the +happiest girl in the _kainga_." + +Scarlett gave a gasp. "Ah--really, I wasn't thinking of marrying--yet." + +Amiria smiled. "You don't understand," she said. "But never mind; if you +love me, that's all right. We will talk of marrying by and by." + +Scarlett stood astonished. His mind, trained in the strict code of a +sternly-proper British parish, failed to grasp the fact that a Maori +girl regards matters of the heart from the standpoint of a child of +Nature; having her code of honour, it is true, but one which is hardly +comprehended by the civilised _Pakeha_. + +Jack felt he was standing upon the dizzy abyss that leads to loss of +caste. There was no doubt of Amiria's beauty, there was no doubt of her +passionate affection, but there was a feeling at the back of his mind +that his regard for her was merely a physical attraction. He admired +every curve of her supple shape, he felt his undying gratitude go out to +the preserver of his life, but that was all. Yet a weakness was stealing +over him, that weakness which is proportionate usually to the +large-heartedness of the individual. + +Suddenly relinquishing Amiria's clasp, he went to the broken port-hole +of a dilapidated cabin and looked out upon the incoming sea. + +"We must be quick," he cried, "or we shall be caught by the tide." + +"What matter?" said the girl, lazily. "I have stayed here a whole night +when the sea was not as calm as it is now." + +"But I have to get back to town--I start for the gold-fields to-morrow, +before daylight." + +"Why do you go to the stupid gold-fields? Isn't there everything a man +wants here? The _pa_ is full of food--you shall want for nothing." + +"I suppose it is the _Pakeha_ way to want to grow rich. Come along." + +He clambered down to where the broken keelson lay, and regained the +rocks. Amiria followed him slowly, as though reluctant to leave the +scene of her confession, but presently she stood beside him on the +slippery seaweed. + +He led the way to where the barrel lay floating in the rising tide. That +the ignominy of being ferried by a girl might not be repeated, he had +brought from the wreck a piece of board with which to propel himself. + +Perceiving his intention so soon as he was sitting cross-legged on the +top of his strange craft, Amiria dashed into the water, seized the +improvised oar, and threatened to drag it from his grasp. + +"I'll take you across myself," she almost screamed. "Why should you +think I don't want to take you back?" + +"All right," said Jack, dropping his piece of wood, "have it your own +way. I hand myself over to you, but let us get across quickly." + +Again the Englishman felt how mean are the conventions of the white man, +how petty his propriety; again the Maori girl felt nothing but pleasure +and pride in the part she played. + +When they reached the further side, Amiria picked up her mat and threw +it over her glistening shoulders, and Scarlett floundered over the +slippery rocks towards the beach. + +"You'll come to the _pa_?" + +"You're too kind. I must get back to town." + +"But you've had nothing to eat." + +"I have my lunch in my wallets." + +Amiria's face fell. "You're very unkind," she said. + +"I'll stay all day, next time I come." + +"When will that be?" + +"As soon as I can. Ah, here's my horse, under this birch tree. Well, +good-bye, Amiria. Thank you for taking charge of me to-day. My word, how +you can swim: like a mermaid." + +His hand touched hers for a brief moment; the next he was in the saddle. +His spur lightly touched the horse's flank, and the springy turf yielded +to the iron-shod hooves; there was a waving of a disappearing hand, and +the brown girl was left alone. + +"You will come back," she called through the leaves. + +"I'll come back." + +Then, slowly, sadly, she walked towards the _pa_, talking to herself in +Maori, listless and sorrowful. + +By the time that Scarlett had reached the outskirts of Timber Town the +night had begun to close in. Leaving the main road, he passed along a +by-way to a ford, where a foot-bridge spanned the river. As his horse +bent its head to drink, Jack heard a woman scream upon the bridge above +him. In a moment he had dismounted, and his heavy boots were resounding +on the wooden planks. In the middle of the bridge he came upon a girl +struggling in the grasp of a thick-set ruffian, who was dragging her +towards the bank further from the town. Grappling with the brutal +fellow, Jack released the girl, who ran past him in the direction of +the horse. + +The scoundrel cursed and kicked, but Jack, who had him by the throat, +almost squeezed the life out of him, and then heaved him over the +bridge into the dark and gurgling water. Returning to the girl, who was +standing at the bridge-head, crying and, seemingly, deprived of power to +run further, Scarlett led her to where the horse stood beside the water. + +"Which way shall I take you?" he asked. + +"I live at the other side of the town," she replied. "I was going home +when that brute met me on the bridge." Again she lost control of her +powers, and Jack was obliged to support her. + +When she had recovered, he swung her into the saddle and led the horse +across the river. + +"I was just in time," he said. "How do you feel now?" + +"Better." + +"It's lucky I didn't kill the brute. Do you know who he is?" + +"I never saw him before. But I think he's a digger: lots of them have +come into the town since this discovery of gold was made. Oh, I'm _so_ +frightened! Do you think he will come again?" + +"It's hardly likely. I think he must have had enough trouble for one +night." + +"Suppose you have drowned him----" + +"There's no chance of that--the water is only deep enough to break his +fall. He'll be all right." + +"I think I had better get down, if you please: it would be rather an +unusual thing to ride through the town in this manner. I think I can +walk." + +She slid limply to the ground, and Jack supported her. + +"Whom must I thank for helping me?" she asked. + +"I'm a digger, too," said Jack; and he told her his name. + +"Are you the man who discovered the new field?" + +"Some people give me the credit of it. I start back to-morrow. It was +lucky I was crossing that stream when I did. You haven't told me whom I +have had the pleasure of rescuing." + +They were passing a street lamp, and for the first time Jack could see +the girl's face. She was pretty, with black hair, an oval face, and a +dark complexion. + +"I'm Miss Varnhagen," she said. "My Dad will be awfully grateful to +you." She looked at her preserver with eyes which expressed all the +gratitude that Scarlett could desire. + +"I'll see you safely home," he said; "and when you tell your father, +perhaps he will repay me by letting me see you again." + +"He'll be only too pleased. He says the town owes you more than it can +ever pay you for discovering this gold, which, he says, will mean +thousands of pounds to him and the other merchants." + +They passed through the town and paused before a great wooden mansion, +painted a light colour, which made it conspicuous even in the dark. Here +Rachel said she lived. Between the gate and the house grew a plantation +of palms, camellias, and rare shrubs, which were displayed by the lights +which shone above the gate and the door. + +"Won't you come in and see my father?" + +"Nothing would please me more, but I'm wet, and my horse is tired and +needs a feed. Some other time I'll call and tell your father how pleased +I was to be of service to you. Good-night." + +Rachel gave his hand a tender squeeze. "Thanks awf'lly," she said, +looking up at him with seraphic eyes. "Thank you awf'lly much. I think +you're just the nicest man I ever met. Be sure you come to see us when +you return. Good-night." Another tender squeeze of the hand, another +affectionate look, and she disappeared among the palms and camellias. + +Jack mounted his horse, and rode it to its stables. Then he went to The +Lucky Digger, where he changed his clothes and had dinner, after which +he directed his steps towards the house of Pilot Summerhayes. + +His knock was answered by Rose herself, who conducted him into the +quaint dining-room, where, upon the polished table, lay the materials +for a dress which she was making, and beside them the hundred-and-one +oddments which are necessary for such a task. + +"Father's out. He has gone to fetch a steamer in." + +"I'm sorry," said Jack. "I should like to see him before I go back to +the bush." + +Rose sat silent. She was very demure, and her manner was somewhat stiff; +therefore, seeing that his experiences had exhilarated him, Jack said, +"I've had a great day. Two of the prettiest girls I ever saw almost +devoured me." + +"Where have you been, Mr. John Scarlett? You want watching." + +Rose's bashfulness had entirely disappeared, but she was blushing +profusely. + +"I went out to see the wreck," said Jack, "and met your little Maori +friend." + +"Your life's preserver." + +"My life's preserver. She ferried me across an impassable strip of water +on a barrel, and almost captured my heart in the saloon." + +"Don't play any games with Amiria's heart, or I shall cut you dead. I +tell you that plainly." + +"I assure you I have no intention whatever of playing with Amiria's +heart. It was she who played with mine, and nearly won. But I saved +myself by flight. It was fortunate I had a good horse." + +Rose laughed. "One would imagine you were hardly big enough to look +after yourself. That's the kind of young man they generally send out +from England. Well?" + +"As I was coming home I met a digger molesting another friend of mine, a +Miss Varnhagen." + +"You'd better be careful--she's a flirt." + +"Then I rather like flirts. I threw the digger into the river, and took +her home. She has the most lovely eyes I ever saw." + +"And she knows how to use them." + +"You're jealous, I'm afraid. Wouldn't you want to look at the man who +had saved you from an ugly brute, who met you in the dark on a narrow +bridge from which you couldn't possibly escape?" + +"Perhaps. But why don't you feel a little sentimental over the girl who +saved you from a watery grave? You're callous, I'm afraid, Mr. +Scarlett." + +"Not at all: I'm merely flattered. It seems a pity I can't stop in +Timber Town, and see more of such girls; but I must be off to-morrow to +get more gold. Gold is good, Miss Summerhayes, but girls are better." + +"Fie, fie. Gold and a good girl--that's perfection." + +"They always go together--I quite understand that." + +"Now you're frivolling. You're making yourself out to be _blase_ and all +that. I shall tell my father to forbid you the house." + +"In which case I shall call on Miss Varnhagen." + +"That would be all right--you would meet with the punishment you +deserve. Marry the Varnhagen girl, and you will be grey in two years, +and bald in five." + +"Well, I'm going to the gold-fields to-morrow." + +"So you said. I hope you will have the same luck as before." + +"Is that all you have to say?" + +"What more do you want?" + +"Any amount." + +"You've got gold: you've got feminine adoration. What more is there, +except more gold?" + +"More feminine adoration." + +"I should have thought you had to-day as much affection as is good for +you." + +"You're in high spirits to-night." + +"I am. It's jolly to think of people succeeding. It's jolly to know +somebody is growing rich, even if my old father and I are poor, that is +too poor for me to go to assembly balls and private dances and things +like that. So I sit at home and sew, and make puddings, and grow roses. +Heigh-ho! I'm very happy, you know." + +Jack looked at her closely. Her cheeks were pink-and-white, her crisp, +brown hair formed a becoming setting to her face, and her blue eyes +sparkled as they watched him. + +"It seems to agree with you," he said. "I feel inclined to recommend a +course of sewing and cooking to all my plain girl-friends." + +"Mr. Scarlett!" + +"I mean it." + +"Then go, and tell Rachel Varnhagen to use your recipe." + +"She's beautiful already." + +Just at this point of the conversation, there was the sound of heavy +steps somewhere in a remote part of the house, and presently the Pilot +of Timber Town tramped into the room. + +"Hullo!" he exclaimed. "Mr. Scarlett! Making love to my dar'ter, when I +thought you was on your way to the diggings? Come, come; you're losing +your opportunities; you're wasting time in gallivanting, when you might +be growing rich. There's great news abroad. They've issued a writ +against that chap Tresco for the robbery of those mail-bags." + +"Tresco?" said Scarlett. + +"Aye, Tresco the goldsmith. He's wanted by the police." + +"Then I'm afraid they won't find him," said Jack. "He's safe, I reckon." + +"Indeed. How do you know that?" + +"He was in the bush with his prospector friend, when I left Bush Robin +Creek. But he robbed no mails, bless you, Pilot. What would he want with +other people's letters?" + +"I don't pretend to know. There's money in mail-bags, I suppose. Perhaps +he was after that." + +"He's after gold, right enough, and he'll get it, if I'm not mistaken." + +Jack had risen to go. + +"We leave early in the morning," he said. "I must get some sleep. +Good-bye, Pilot; good-bye, Miss Summerhayes." + +"Good luck, lad. Come back rich." + +Rose was silent till Jack was near the door. Then she said, "I shall +remember your recipe--I shan't neglect home duties: I shall attend to +them regularly." + +Jack laughed, and the Pilot went with him to the front door. + +"Eh, lad, there never was such a gal for minding a house. She can make +a batter-puddin' with anyone, and I don't care who the next is. Good +night, lad, good night. There's never no need to tell her to look after +her old father, none at all. And it's a good test--as good as you can +have, Jack, my lad. If a gal looks after her old father well, she'll +look after her husband, too, when he comes along. Good night, Jack; good +night. Eh, but you're in a lucky streak. You'll die rich, Jack. Good +night, Jack; good night." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +Forewarned, Forearmed. + + +Tresco and the Prospector were eating their "tucker" beneath the boughs +of a spreading black-birch. In front of them burned brightly a fire of +dead branches, suspended above which was the "billy," black and battered +externally, but full of fragrant tea. + +"I shall go home to England," said Benjamin; his mouth half-filled with +cold bacon. "I shall visit my widowed mother, and be the comfort and +support of her declining years. There must be over 200 ounces in the +tent, and hundreds more in the claim." + +"I ain't got a widowed mother," said the Prospector. "_I_ shall go into +Timber Town and make The Lucky Digger open house--come when you like, +have what you like, at the expense of Mr. William Wurcott. That's my +style. I like to see a man free with his dollars." + +They had pegged out their claim at a spot where the corrugations in the +rocky bed of the creek stretched from bank to bank and a beach of soft +sand spread itself along the water's edge. + +The first "prospect" that they had "panned off" resulted in a return of +a couple of ounces. Next they had "fossicked" with sheath-knives in the +crevices of the rocks, and had quickly got something more than half a +cupful of gold, in shape and size like pumpkin seeds. The day following, +they continued to "pan off" the sands in front of their tent; each dish +yielding a handsome return. But as Benjamin found this process difficult +in his unskilful hands, he directed his attention to looking for new +patches. Wading about in the shallows with a dish in one hand and a +shovel in the other, he overturned loose bits of rock which he found +lying on the sand. Sometimes he would find an ounce or two, sometimes +nothing at all; but upon turning over a flat slab of rock, to raise +which needed all his strength, he gave a whoop of delight, for a yellow +mass lay glittering in the rippling waters. With a single scoop of his +shovel he had won 80 ozs. of gold. + +This rich spot was where the water was but two feet deep, and above it +and below it gold could be seen shining amongst the sand and gravel. +When the cream of the claim, so to speak, had been skimmed off with the +tin dish, the men began to set up sluice boxes, by means of which they +might work the whole of their ground systematically. + +In constructing these boxes they received every help from Moonlight, who +lent them tools, and aided them in cutting out the slabs. Left mateless +during Scarlett's visit to Timber Town, the veteran miner frequently +exchanged his lonely camp for the more congenial quarters of Tresco and +the Prospector. + +It was during one of the foregatherings round the camp-fire, when Night +had spread her sable mantle over the sleeping earth, and only the +wakeful wood-hen and the hoarsely-hooting owl stirred the silence +of the leafy solitude, that Moonlight was "swapping" yarns with the +Prospector. As the flames shot up lurid tongues which almost licked the +overhanging boughs, and the men sat, smoking their black tobacco, and +drinking from tin pannikins tea too strong for the urban stomach, Bill +the Prospector expectorated into the flames, and said: + +"The biggest streak o' luck I ever had--barring this present field, you +understand--was at the Diamond Gully rush. There weren't no diamonds, +but I got over 100 ounces in three days. Gold was more plentiful than +flour, and in the police camp there was two safes full of gold belonging +to the Bank, which was a twelve by eight tent, in charge of a young +feller named Henery. A more trusting young man I never met. When I went +to sell my little pile, he had over 12,000 ounces in a old leather +boot-trunk in his tent, besides more in a sugar-bag. He'd even filled +one of his top-boots with gold, and its feller stood waitin' to receive +my contribution. 'Good morning,' I says. 'Are you the boss o' this +show?' 'I'm in charge of the Bank,' he says, just as grand as if he was +behind a mahog'ny counter with brass fixings. 'Then weigh my pile,' I +says, handing over my gold. Then what d'you think he done? 'Just wait +till I get my scales,' he says. 'I've lent 'em to the Police Sergeant. +Please have the goodness to look after the business while I'm gone.' +With that he leaves me in the company of close on L100,000, and never a +soul'd have bin the wiser if I'd helped myself to a thousand or two. But +the reel digger don't act so--it's the loafers on the diggings gets us a +bad name. I've dreamed of it, I've had reg'lar nightmares about it when +I've bin stone-broke and without a sixpence to buy a drink." + +"What?" said Tresco. "Gold littered about like lumber, and you +practically given the office to help yourself? It's wonderful, Bill, +what restraint there is in an honest mind! You can't ever have been to +Sunday School." + +"How d'you know?" asked the Prospector. + +"Because, if you'd ha' bin regular to Sunday School when you were a boy, +and bin told what a perfect horrible little devil you were, till you +believed it, why, you'd ha' stole thousands of pounds from that calico +Bank, just to prove such theories true. Now _I_ was brought up godly. I +was learnt texts, strings of 'em a chain long; I had a red-headed, +pimply teacher who just revelled in inbred sin and hell-fire till he +made me want to fry him on the school grate. I couldn't ha' withstood +your temptation. I'd most certainly have felt justified in taking a few +ounces of gold, as payment for keeping the rest intact." + +"You're talking nonsense, the two of you," said Moonlight. "To rob on a +gold-field means to be shot or, at the very least, gaoled. And when a +man's on good gold himself, he doesn't steal other people's. My best +luck was on the Rifle River, at a bend called Felix Point. It had a +sandy beach where the water was shallow, just like this one here. My +mate and I fossicked with a knife and a pannikin, and before the day was +over we had between 30 and 40 ounces. The gold lay on a bottom of black +sand and gravel which looked like so many eggs. After we'd put up our +sluice we got as much as 200 ounces a day, and thought the claim poor +when we got no more than fifty." + +"I 'xpect you had a rare ole spree when you got to town," said the +Prospector. "How much did you divide?" + +"Between twenty and thirty thousand," replied Moonlight. "I handed my +gold over to the Police escort, and went to town as comfortable as +if I was on a turnpike road. I didn't go on the wine--I'm almost a +teetotaler. A little red-headed girl got most of my pile--a red-headed +girl can generally twist me round her thumb. That must have been ten +years ago." + +"You've grown older and, perhaps, wiser," interjected Benjamin. +"Wonderful thing, age." + +"This time I'm going to take a draft on Timbuctoo, or Hong-kong, or some +place where red-headed girls are scarce, and see if I can't get away +with a little cash." + +"Most probably you've got a widowed mother, like me," said Benjamin. +"Go, and comfort her declining years. Do like me: wipe out the +recollection of the good times you've had by acts of filial piety. A +widowed mother is good, but if you can rake up a maiden aunt and keep +her too, that'll be a work of supererogation." + +"Of how much?" asked Bill. + +"It's a word I picked up in my College days--I'm afraid I've forgotten +the precise meaning." Benjamin's face lit up with a smile that stretched +from ear to ear. He lifted his pannikin to his lips, nodded to his +companions, said, "Here's luck," and drank the black tea as though it +had been nectar. "That's the beauty of turning digger," he continued; +"the sobriety one acquires in the bush is phenomenal. If you asked me to +name the most virtuous man on this planet, I should say a prospector in +the bush--a bishop is nothing to him. But I own that when he goes +to town the digger becomes a very devil let loose. Think of the +surroundings here--innocent twittering birds, silent arboreous trees, +clear pellucid streams, nothing to tempt, nothing to degrade." + +Tresco might have amplified his discourse as fully as a bishop, but that +at this point there was a shouting and the noise of dry boughs cracking +under advancing feet. In a moment the three men were standing, alert, +astonished, in various attitudes of defence. + +Moonlight had armed himself with a pick, the Prospector had grasped a +shovel, Tresco drew a revolver from inside his "jumper." + +The shouting continued, though nothing could be seen. Then came out of +the darkness, "What-ho there, Moonlight! Can't you give us a hand to +cross the river?" + +"It's my mate," said Moonlight. "I know the voice. Is that you, +Scarlett?" + +"It's Scarlett, all right," called back the voice, "but how am I to +cross this infernal river?" + +The three men walked to the edge of the water, and peered into the +darkness. + +"Perfectly safe," said the Prospector. "She's barely up to your middle." + +There was a splashing as of some one walking in the water, and presently +a dark object was seen wading toward them. + +"Now, what the deuce is all this about, Scarlett?" It was Moonlight who +thus expressed his wonderment. "The man who travels here at night +deserves to get bushed. That you reached camp is just luck." + +"Camp?" replied the dripping Scarlett. "I've been waiting for you at +_our_ camp since nightfall with twenty other devils worse than myself. +Don't you ever sleep in your tent?" + +"Of course 'e does," the Prospector answered for Moonlight, "but mayn't +a digger be neighbourly, and go to see 'is friends? + +"Come, and dry yerself by the fire, and have a bit of tucker." + +"But Great Ghost!" exclaimed Moonlight, "all the gold's in my tent, in +the spare billy." + +"Quite safe. Don't worry," said Scarlett. "All those twenty men of +mine are mounting guard over it, and if one of them stole so much as an +ounce, the rest would kill him for breach of contract. That's the result +of binding men to go share and share alike--they watch each other like +ferrets." + +Jack took off his clothes, and wrapped in a blanket he sat before the +fire, with a pipe in his mouth and a steaming pannikin in his hand. + +"Well, happy days!" he said as he drank. "And that reminds me, +Tresco--you're wanted in Timber Town, very badly indeed--a little matter +in connection with the mails. 'Seems there's been peculation of some +sort, and for reasons which are as mad as the usual police tactics, the +entire force is searching for you, most worthy Benjamin. The yarn goes +that you're a forger in disguise, a counterfeiter of our sovereign's +sacred image and all that, the pilferer of Her Majesty's mails, a +dangerous criminal masquerading as a goldsmith." + +"Holee Smoke!" cried the Prospector. "Look to your gold, +gen'lemen--there's thieves abroad, and one of us may be harbourin' a +serpent unaware. Ben, my lovely pal, consider yourself arrested." + +"Do I understand there's a writ out?" asked Moonlight, serious, +judicial, intensely solemn. "This must be put a stop to instantly. +Imagine our virtuous friend in gaol." + +"Anyway, joking apart, the men I have brought know all about it," said +Scarlett. "You've got till to-morrow morning to make tracks, Benjamin." + +The goldsmith coughed, and stood up in the full blaze of the fire-light. +"I confess to nothing," he said. "My strong point hasn't been my piety, +I own to that. I'm not much of a hot gospeller. I can't call to mind any +works of unusual virtue perpetrated by me in unthinking moments. I'll go +even so far as this: I'll acknowledge there are times when, if I let +myself off the chain, I'd astonish all Timber Town; for there lurks +somewhere inside my anatomy a demon which, let loose, would turn the +town into a little hell, but, gentlemen, believe me, he is bound hand +and foot, he's in durance vile. I'm no saint, but I'm no forger or +counterfeiter, or animal of that sort--not yet. I have notions sometimes +that I'd make a first-class burglar, if I gave my mind thoroughly to the +business: I'd go to work in a scientific way; I'd do the business in a +workmanlike fashion. I've got a strong leaning towards the trade, and +yet I never burgled once, I who take a pleasure in investigating locks +and latches and all the hundred-and-one contraptions used against +thieves. But what is Timber Town?--a trap. The man who goes +housebreaking in a little tin-pot place like that deserves to be +caught. No, it is too isolated, too solitary, too difficult of egress +to foreign parts, is Timber Town. The idea is preposterous, foolish, +untenable--excellent word, untenable--and as for forging, the thing is +so ridiculous that it isn't worth confuting. But what's this about +robbing mails? What mails?" + +"The incoming English mail," said Scarlett. "Someone went through the +bags before they were delivered." + +"Ah!" said Benjamin, "we must look for the motive in the perpetration of +such a crime as that. We'll grant that the robbery took place--we'll +make that concession. But what was the motive? The thief would expect +one of two things--either to enhance his wealth, or to obtain valuable +information. Who does the cap fit? Personally, I am as poor as a crow +but for this gold: as regards information, all the secrets of the +citizens of Timber Town do not interest me--I have no use for +scandal--and as I have no rivals in my calling, mere trade secrets have +no charm for me. The police are chuckle-heads." Tresco buried his face +in his pannikin, and then re-lit his pipe. + +"Very good argyment," commented the hirsute Prospector, "very clear and +convincin', but the police aren't open to argyment--they act on +instinct." + +"Armed with a writ, a policeman is like a small boy with a shotgun," +remarked Moonlight--"he must let it off. I don't say you're guilty, +Tresco, but I say the minions of the Law will have you in their clutches +if you don't make yourself scarce." + +"An' just as I was accumulating the one little pile of my life," +murmured Benjamin. "Sometimes I think the gods show incompetence in the +execution of their duty; sometimes I think there ain't no gods at all, +but only a big, blind Influence that blunders on through Creation, +trampling promiscuous on small fry like me." He pulled at his pipe +contemplatively. "Decamp, is it? Obscure my fairy-like proportions from +the common gaze? But who's to look after my interests here? What's to +become of my half of the gold yet ungot?" + +"Can't you trust a mate?" said Bill. "Ain't I acted square so far? What +are you gettin' at? I'll work the claim to its last ounce, and then I'll +go whacks, same as if you'd bin here all the time. Then you can leave +the country. Till then I'll put you away in a hiding-place where all the +traps in the blanky country"--Bill had worked on Australian fields, and +showed it in his speech--"won't find you, not if they search for years." + +Scarlett rose. He had put on his garments, now dry and warm. "So-long, +Benjamin," he said. "You may be the biggest criminal unhung, for all I +know, but you have one thing in your favour: if you robbed those mails +it must have been for the benefit of another man." + +Moonlight bade good-bye, but as though to make up for his mate's +aspersion, said, "I know nothing of this business, but I know the +police. If they're not turned into a holy show when they set foot in +this camp to look for you, may I never find another ounce of gold. Keep +your end up, Benjamin. So-long." And he followed his mate into the +darkness. + +The Prospector was wrapped in thought. He sat, gazing into the fire, for +fully ten minutes. Then he said, "There's three ways--the Forks, the +Saddle, and the Long Valley. I give 'em my own names. The Saddle's the +safest. It's a bit of a tough climb, but it's sure. There's no hurry, +but we must leave here at dawn, before these newsters reach the +claim, which Moonlight'll see isn't jumped. So we'll sleep happy and +comfortable, pack our swags just before daylight, take all our gold +along with us, and cook our tucker when we make our first halt. All +serene, my lovely Bishop; all thought out and planned, just like in a +book. Never hurry in the bush, my beautiful ecclesiastic, as nothing's +ever gained by that. More haste, less speed--in the bush, my learned +preacher. What a pity they didn't catch you young and turn you into a +sky-pilot, Ben. The way you jawed them two was fit for the pulpit. But +now I know where you got the money to repay me that L117. I don't want +any explanation. I know where you got it." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +The Goldsmith Comes to Town. + + +Timber Town was in a state of commotion. The news of the discovery of +the new gold-field had spread far and wide, and every steamer which came +into the port was crowded with clammering diggers. Every boarding-house +was full to overflowing, every inn was choked with men in heavy boots +and corduroy trousers; the roads on the outskirts of the town were lined +with rows of tents; everybody talked of the El Dorado in the mountains; +there was no thought but of gold; men were buying stores in every shop; +pack-horses stood with their heavy loads, in every inn-yard; and towards +the bush, threading their way through the tortuous gorge that led into +the heart of the mountains, a continual string of diggers, laden with +heavy "swags" or leading patient over-laden horses, filed into the +depths of the forest. + +Jake Ruggles had lived a troubled life since his legal head and +overlord, the official sponsor of his promising young life, had dropped +out of his existence, as a stone drops to the bottom of a well and is +no more seen. Upon his immature shoulders rested all the worry of the +goldsmith's business. He was master of Tresco's bench; the gravers and +the rat-tail files, the stock-drills and the corn-tongs were under +his hand for good or for evil. With blow-pipe and burnisher, with +plush-wheel and stake-anvil he wrought patiently; almost bursting with +responsibility, yet with anxiety gnawing at his heart. And the lies he +told on behalf of his "boss"!--lies to men with unpaid accounts in their +hands, lies to constables with bits of blue paper from the Clerk of the +Court, lies to customers whose orders could not be executed except by +the master-goldsmith. On all sides the world pressed heavily on Jake. +His wizened face was quickly assuming the aspect of a little old man's; +his furtive eyes began to wear a scared look; sleep had ceased to visit +his innocent couch with regularity; his appetite, which formerly had +earned him a reputation with his peers, was now easily appeased with a +piece of buttered bread and a cup of milkless tea; the "duff" and rice +puddings, of the goldsmith's making, had passed out of his life even as +had the "boss" himself. Never was there a more badgered, woe-begone +youth than Jake. + +It was night time. The shutters of the shop were up, the door was +bolted, the safe, with its store of gold-set gewgaws, was locked, and +the key rested securely in the apprentice's pocket, but by the light of +a gas-jet, his head bent over the bench, Jake was hard at work on a +half-finished ring. In one hand he held a tapering steel rod, on which +was threaded a circle of metal which might have been mistaken for brass; +in the other he held a light hammer with which he beat the yellow +zone. Tap-tap. "Jerusalem, my 'appy 'ome, oh! how I long for thee!" +Tap-tap-tap went the hammer. "If the 'old man' was on'y here to lend a +hand, I'd give a week's pay. The gold's full o' flaws--all along of the +wrong alloy, in smeltin'--full o' cracks and crevices." He took the gold +hoop off the steel rod, placed it on a piece of charred wood, pulled the +gas-jet towards him, and with the blow-pipe impinged little jets of +flame upon the yellow ring. "An' the galloot that come in this afternoon +said, 'I always find the work turned out of this shop ah--excellent, +ah--tip-top, as good as anything I ever bought in the Old Country, +don'tcherknow.' Yah! Gimme silver, that's all. Gimme a butterfly buckle +to make, or a monogram to saw out, an' I wouldn't call the Pope my +uncle." His eye lifted from his work and rested on a broken gold brooch, +beautiful with plaited hair under a glass centre. "An' that fussy old +wood-hen'll be in, first thing to-morrow, askin' for 'the memento of my +poor dear 'usband, my child, the one with the 'air in it'--carrotty +'air. An' those two bits of 'air-pins that want them silver bangles by +ten o'clock, they'll be here punctual. I'm just fair drove silly with +badgerin' wimmen. I'm goin' ratty with worry. When the boss comes back +from his spree, I'll give 'im a bit o' my mind. I'll tell 'im, if he +_must_ go on a bend he should wait till the proper time--Christmas, +Anniversary of the Settlement, Easter, or even a Gov'ment Holiday. But +at a time like _this_, when the town's fair drippin' with dollars ... +stupid ole buck-rabbit! An' when he can't be found, the mutton-headed +bobbies suddenly become suspicious. It's no good for me to tell 'em it's +his periodical spree--_they_ say it's robbery. Oh, well, I back my +opinion, that's all. But whether it's the one, or the other, of all the +chuckle-headed old idiots that ever was born"--Tap-tap. It was not the +noise of Jake's hammer, but a gentle knocking at the side-door of the +workshop. + +The apprentice rose quietly, and put his ear to the key-hole. +Tap-tap-tap. + +"Who's there?" + +"Open the door," said a soft voice. "It's me. I want to come in." + +"Very likely you do. There's many more'd like to come in here." + +"Is that you, Jake?" + +"Never you mind. Who're you?" + +"You weasel-faced young imp, am I to burst open my own door?" + +The mystery was at an end. In a moment, the bolt was withdrawn and +Benjamin Tresco stood in his workshop. + +But before he spoke, he bolted the door behind him. Then he said, +"Well?" + +"So you've come back?" said Jake, fiercely. + +"Looks like it," said the goldsmith. "How's things?" + +"Gone to the devil. How d'you expect me to keep business goin' when you +go on a howling spree, for weeks?" + +"Spree? Me? My dear innocent youth, I have clean forgotten the very +taste of beer. At this present moment, I stand before you a total +abstainer of six weeks' duration. And yet what I ask for is not beer, +but bread--I'm as hungry as a wolf; I've hardly eaten anything for two +days. What have you got in the house?" + +"Nothin'." + +"What!" + +"_I_ don't 'ave no time to cook. When I can find time, I go up to The +Lucky Digger and get a good square feed. D'you expect me to do two men's +work and cook as well?" + +Tresco undid the small "swag" which he carried, and before the +astonished eyes of his apprentice he disclosed fully a hundred ounces of +gold. + +"Jee-rusalem! Blame me if you ain't been diggin'!" + +"That's so, my son." + +"And the police are fair ratty because they thought you were hiding from +the Law." + +"So I am, my son." + +"Garn!" + +"Solemn fact--there's a writ out against me." + +"Well?" + +"I ain't got a mind to be gaoled at such a glorious time in the history +of Timber Town. I want to get more gold, stacks of it." + +"An' where do _I_ come in?" + +"You come in as owner of this business by and by--if you're a good boy." + +"Huh! I want to go diggin' too." + +"All in good time, my energetic youth, all in good time. But for the +present, give me some food." + +"Didn't I tell you there isn't any?" yelled Jake. + +"Very good, very good, but don't talk so loud. Take this half-crown, and +go to The Lucky Digger. Tell the young lady in the bar that you have a +friend who's dying of hunger. Tell her to fill a jug with a quart of +beer, and a basket with tucker of sorts. And hurry back; for, by my +sacred aunt, if I don't get something better presently, I shall turn +cannibal and eat _you_!" + +While the boy was gone, Tresco weighed the gold that lay on the bench. +It came to 111 ounces, and this, valued at the current price of gold +from Bush Robin Creek--the uninitiated are possibly unaware that as one +star differeth from another star in glory, so the gold from one locality +differs in price from that found in another--came to L430 2s. 6d. + +Finding the safe locked, Tresco, whistling softly, turned down the gas, +and sat at his bench in the gloom. + +When Jake returned he was cautiously admitted, the door was re-bolted, +and the gas was turned up sufficiently to show the goldsmith the way to +his mouth. + +"Where's the key of the safe, Jake?" + +"Where it ought to be." + +"You young imp, anty up." + +Jake produced the key from his pocket. "D'you suppose I label it and put +it in the winder?" + +"Put this gold away--there's 111 ounces. I'll bring some more next time +I come. Now." He lifted the jug, and drank. When he set it down again, +it was half empty. "That's what I call a moment of bliss. No one who +hasn't spent a month in the bush knows what a thirst really is; he ain't +got no conception what beer means. Now, what's in the basket?" He lifted +the white napkin that covered his supper. "Ham!" A beautific smile +illumined his face. "Ham, pink and white and succulent, cut in thin +slices by fair hands. Delicious! And what's this? Oyster patties, cold +certainly, but altogether lovely. New bread, cheese, apple turn-over! +Couldn't be better. The order of the menu is; first, entrees--that means +oysters--next, ham, followed by sweets, and topped off with a morsel of +cheese. Stand by and watch me eat--a man that has suffered +semi-starvation for nearly a month." + +Jake lit a cigarette, an indulgence with which in these days of worry +and stress he propitiated his overwrought nerves. He drew in the smoke +with all the relish of a connoisseur, and expelled it through his +nostrils. + +"Is this gold the result of six weeks' work?" he asked. + +"No, barely one week's," answered Tresco, his mouth full of ham and new +bread. + +"Crikey!" Jake inhaled more cigarette smoke. "'Seems to me our potty +little trade ain't in it. I move that we both go in for the loocrative +profession of diggin'." + +"Mumf--mumf--muff--muff." The ham had conquered Tresco's speech. + +"Jes' so. That's what _I_ think, boss." + +Benjamin gave a gulp. "I won't take you," he said, as plainly as +possible. + +"Oh, you won't?" + +"I won't." + +"Then, suppose I go on my own hook, eh?" + +"You've got to stop and look after this shop. You're apprenticed to +_me_." + +"Oh, indeed!" + +"If a man chooses to spend a little holiday in the bush, is his +apprentice to suppose his agreement's cancelled? Not a bit of it." + +"An' suppose a man chooses to spend a little holiday in gaol, what +then?" + +"That's outside the sphere of practical politics, my son." + +"I don't know so much about that. I think different. I think we'll cry +quits. I think I'll go along with you, or likely there'll be trouble." + +"Trouble?" + +"Yes, trouble." + +"What sort of trouble, jackanapes?" + +"Why, crimson trouble." + +"Indeed." + +"I've got you tied hand and foot, boss. You can take that from _me_." + +"Is that so? What do you think you can do?" + +"I intend to go along with you." + +"But I start to-night. If I can scrape together enough food to last a +week or two. But I'll take you along. You shall come. I'll show you how +I live. Now, then, what d'you say?" There was a twinkle in Tresco's eye, +and the corners of his mouth twitched with merriment. + +"Think I don't know when I've got a soft thing on?" Jake took off his +apron, and hung it on a nail. "Shan't want _that_, for a month or two +anyway." Then he faced the "boss" with, "Equal whacks, you old +bandicoot. I'll find the tucker, and we'll share the gold." + +Tresco's smile broke into a hearty laugh. He put his hands to his sides, +threw back his head, and fairly chortled. + +"I don't see any joke." Jake looked at his master from beneath his +extravagant eyebrows. + +"You'll ... you'll get the tucker ... see?" + +"Why, yes--how's a man to live?" + +"An' you'll help swag it?" + +"'Course." + +"You'll implicitly obey your lawful lord and master, out on the +wallaby?" + +"'Spect I'll 'ave to." + +"You won't chiack or poke borak at his grey and honoured head when, by +reason of his endowment of adipose tissue, his wind gives out?" + +"Oh, talk sense. Adipose rabbits' skins!" + +"All these several and collective points being agreed upon, my youthful +Adonis, I admit you into partnership." + +"Done," said the apprentice, with emphasis. "It's a bargain. Go and +sleep, and I'll fossick round town for tucker--I'm good for a +sixty-pound swag, and you for eighty. So-long." + +He turned off the gas, took the key of the side door, which he locked +after him, and disappeared, whilst Tresco groped his way to bed. + +The surreptitious goldsmith had slept for two hours when the stealthy +apprentice let himself quietly into the dark and cheerless house. He +bore on his back a heavy bag of flour, and carried on his arm a big +basket filled with minor packages gleaned from sleepy shopkeepers, who +had been awakened by the lynx-eyed youth knocking at their backdoors. + +In the cheerful and enlivening company of an alarum clock, Jake retired +to his couch, which consisted of a flax-stuffed mattress resting on a +wooden bedstead, and there he quickly buried himself in a weird tangle +of dirty blankets, and went to sleep. + +At the conclusion of three brief hours, which to the heavy sleeper +appeared as so many minutes, the strident alarum woke the apprentice to +the stress of life. By the light of a tallow candle he huddled on his +clothes, and entered the goldsmith's chamber. + +"Now, then, boss, three o'clock! Up you git!" + +Benjamin rubbed his eyes, sat up in bed, and yawned. + +"''Tis the voice of the sluggard, I heard him complain: You've waked me +too soon--I must slumber again.' + +What's the time, Jake?" + +"Ain't I tellin' you?--three o'clock. If we don't want to be followed by +every digger in the town, we must get out of it before dawn." + +"Wise young Solomon, youth of golden promise. Go and boil the kettle. +We'll have a snack before we go. Then for fresh fields and pastures +new." + +The goldsmith bounded out of bed, with a buoyancy which resembled that +of an india-rubber ball. + +"Ah-ha! + 'Under the greenwood tree + Who loves to lie with me, + And tune his merry note + Unto the sweek bird's throat, + Come hither.' +You see, Jakey, mine, we were eddicated when we was young." Benjamin +had jumped into his clothes as he talked. "A sup and a snack, and we +flit by the light of the moon." + +"There ain't no moon." + +"So much the better. We'll guide our steps by the stars' pale light and +the beams of the Southern Cross." + +By back lanes and by-roads the goldsmith and his boy slunk out of the +town. At the mouth of the gorge where diggers' tents lined the road, +they walked delicately, exchanging no word till they were deep in the +solitude of the hills. + +As the first streak of dawn pierced the gloom of the deep valley, +they were wading, knee-deep, a ford of the river, whose banks they had +skirted throughout their journey. On the further side the forest, dank, +green, and dripping with dew, received them into its impenetrable +shades, but still the goldsmith toiled on; his heavy burden on his back, +and the panting, weary, energetic, enthusiastic apprentice following his +steps. + +Leaving the track, Tresco led the way up a steep gully, thickly choked +with underscrub, and dark with the boughs of giant trees. Forcing their +way through tangled supple-jacks and clinging "lawyer" creepers which +sought to stay their progress, the wayfarers climbed till, as day +dawned, they paused to rest their wearied limbs before a sheer cliff +of rock. + +"It's not very far now," said the goldsmith, as he wiped his dripping +brow. "This is the sort of work to reduce the adipose tissue, my son. +D'you think you could find your way here by yourself, indomitable +Jakey?" + +"Huh! 'Course," replied the breathless youth, proud to be his master's +companion in such a romantic situation, and glorying in his "swag". "Is +this your bloomin' camp?" + +"No, sir." Tresco glanced up the face of the great limestone rock which +barred their path. "Not exactly. We've got to scale this cliff, and then +we're pretty well there." + +A few supple-jacks hung down the face of the rock. These Tresco took in +his hand, and twisted them roughly into a cable. "'Look natural, don't +they?" he said. "'Look as if they growed t'other end, eh? Now, watch +me." With the help of his rope of lianas he climbed up the rugged cliff, +and when at the summit, he called to Jake to tie the "swags" to separate +creepers. These he hoisted to the top of the cliff, and shortly +afterwards the eager face of the apprentice appeared over the brow. + +"Here we are," exclaimed Benjamin, "safe as a church. Pull up the +supple-jacks, Jake." + +With an enthusiasm which plainly betokened a mind dwelling on +bushrangers and hidden treasure, the apprentice did as he was told. + +Out of breath through his exertions, he excitedly asked, "What's the +game, boss? Where's the bloomin' plant?" + +"Plant?" replied the goldsmith. + +"Yes, the gold, the dollars?" + +"Dollars? Gold?" + +"Yes, gold! 'Think _I_ don't know? Theseyer rocks are limestone. Who +ever saw gold in limestone formation? Eh?" + +"How do _you_ know it's limestone?" + +"Yah! Ain't I bin down to the lime-kiln, by Rubens' wharf, and seen the +lime brought over the bay? What's the game? Tell us." + +"The thing that I'm most interested in, at this present moment,"--the +goldsmith took up his heavy "swag"--"is tucker." + +Without further words, he led the way between perpendicular outcrops +of rocks whose bare, grey sides were screened by fuchsia trees, birch +saplings, lance-wood, and such scrub as could take root in the shallow +soil. Turning sharply round a projecting rock, he passed beneath a tall +black birch which grew close to an indentation in the face of the +cliff. Beneath the great tree the heels of the goldsmith crushed the +dry, brown leaves deposited during many seasons; then in an instant he +disappeared from the sight of the lynx-eyed Jake, as a rabbit vanishes +into its burrow. + +"Hi! Here! Boss! Where the dooce has the ole red-shank got too?" + +A muffled voice, coming as from the bowels of the earth, said, "Walk +inside. Liberty Hall.... Free lodging and no taxes." + +Jake groped his way beneath the tree, surrounded on three sides by the +limestone cliff. In one corner of the rock was a sharp depression, in +which grew shrubs of various sorts. Dropping into this, the lad pushed +his way through the tangled branches and stood before the entrance of a +cave. + +Inside Tresco held a lighted candle in his hand. In front of him stood +Jake, spellbound. + +Overhead, the ceiling was covered with white and glistening stalactites; +underfoot, the floor was strewn with bits of carbonate and the broken +bases of stalagmites, which had been shattered to make a path for the +ruthless iconoclast who had made his home in this pearly-white temple, +built without hands. + +Tresco handed Jake another lighted candle. + +"Allow me to introduce you, my admirable Jakey, to my country mansion, +where I retire from the worry of business, and turn my mind to the +contemplation of Nature. This is the entrance hall, the portico: observe +the marble walls and the ceiling-decorations--Early English, +perpendicular style." + +Jake stood, open-mouthed with astonishment. + +"Now we come to the drawing-room, the grand _salon_, where I give my +receptions." Benjamin led the way through a low aperture, on either side +of which stalactites and stalagmites had met, leaving a low doorway in +the centre. Beyond this, the candles' dim light struggled for supremacy +in a great hall, whose walls shone like crystal. On one side the +calcareous encrustations had taken the form of a huge organ, cut as +if out of marble, with pipes and key-board complete. + +"Holee Christopher!" exclaimed the apprentice. + +"Nature's handiwork," said the goldsmith. "Beautiful.... Been making, +this thousand years, for _me_--an' you." + +"Then I reckon Nature forgot the chimbley--it's as cold as the grave." + +"On the contrary, there is a chimney; but Nature doesn't believe in a +fireplace in each room. Proceed. I will now show you my private +apartments. Mind the step." + +He led the way down a dark passage, strewn with huge pieces of +limestone, over which master and apprentice scrambled, into an inner +chamber, where the white walls were grimed with smoke and the black +embers of an extinguished fire lay in the middle of the floor. + +"My _sanctum sanctorum_," said the goldsmith, as he fixed the butt of +his candle to a piece of rock by means of drops of melted wax poured +from the lighted end. "This is where I meditate; this is where I mature +my plans for the betterment of the human species." + +"Rats! You're darn well hidin' from the police." + +"My son, you grieve me; your lack of the poetic shocks me." + +"Oh, garn! You robbed those mails, that's about the size of it." + +"Robbed?--no, sir. Examined?--yes, sir. I was the humble instrument in +the hands of a great rascal, a man of unprincipled life, a man who +offered bribes, heavy bribes--an' I took 'em. I had need of money." + +"First comes the bender and then the bribe. I know, boss. But where +d'you get the gold?" + +Benjamin stooped over a mass of bedding, rolled up in a tent-fly, and +brought to light a canvas bag. + +"My private store," he said, "mine and Bill's. We go whacks. We're doing +well, but expediency demands that for a short while I should retire into +private life. And, by the hokey, I can afford it." + +"Gold?" asked Jake, peering at the bag. + +"Nuggets," said the goldsmith. + +Jake dropped his "swag" and felt the weight of the bag. + +"It gits over me," he said. "Either you stole it, or you dug it. I give +it up. Any'ow, there it is." + +Benjamin smiled his broadest, and began to rake together the charred +sticks scattered over the floor. + +"This is my only trouble," he said. "To yank my firewood in here is +heart-breaking; that and swagging tucker from town." + +"Where's the smoke go to?" Jake looked into the inky blackness above. + +"Don't know. Never asked. I guess it finds its way somewhere, for after +I've hung my blanket over the doorway and lighted the fire, I sometimes +notice that the bats which live overhead buzz round and then clear out +somewhere. I imagine that there's a passage which connects with the open +air. Some day, perhaps, an over-earnest policeman will drop on our +heads. Then there'll be a picnic, eh?" + +"What I want, just at present," said Jake, "is a drink." + +"That's another of my troubles," replied the goldsmith. "I have to fetch +my water from outside, but it's lovely water when you've got it." + +He placed his bag of gold in a corner. "Don't put all your eggs into one +basket," he said. "I believe in Jacob's plan--divide your belongings. If +I'm caught here, I have the plant in town. If I'm caught in town, I have +the plant here. Anyhow, the police can't get everything." + +"An' where do I come in?" The eyes of the rabbit-faced youth peered into +his master's. + +"I don't precisely know. I don't think you come in at all." + +"Then what about that gold in the safe, boss?" + +"The key is here." Benjamin slapped his pocket gently. "But, if you're a +good boy you shall have my business, and be the boss goldsmith of Timber +Town." + +"Honest injin?" + +"Perfectly honest. If I get away with my gold, all I leave behind is +yours." + +"Shake hands on it." + +"Certainly," said the goldsmith, and he held out his hand. + +Jake took it in his. + +"It's a bargain," he said. + +"That's right; a bargain." + +"I'll help you to get away with your gold, and you'll leave me your +business, lock, stock, and barrel." + +"That's exactly it," said the goldsmith, taking up an empty "billy" from +the ground. "Now we'll go and get the water for our tea." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +Fishing. + + +A case of bottling-plums, the bloom still on their purple cheeks, stood +on the kitchen table. Beside it stood Rose, her arms bare to the elbows, +and a snowy apron flowing from breast to ankle. Marshalled in regular +array in front of the case, stood a small army of glass jars, which +presently were to receive the fruit. + +In a huge preserving-pan a thick syrup was simmering on the stove; and +Rose had just begun to place the fruit in this saccharine mixture, when +a succession of knocks, gentle but persistent, was heard coming from the +front door. + +"Oh, bother," said Rose, as she paused with a double handful of plums +half way between the fruit-case and the stove. "Who can that be?" + +Again the knocking resounded through the house. + +"I suppose I must go," said Rose, placing the fruit carefully in the +pan, and then, slipping off her flowing apron, she went hurriedly to the +front door. + +There stood the pretty figure of Rachel Varnhagen, dressed in billowy +muslin, a picture hat which was adorned with the brightest of ribbons +and artificial flowers, and the daintiest of shoes. Her sallow cheeks +were tinged with a carmine flush, her pearly teeth gleamed behind a +winning smile, and a tress of glossy hair, escaped from under her frail +head-dress, hung bewitchingly upon her shoulder. + +"Oh, how do you _do_?" she exclaimed effusively, as she closed her silk +parasol. "I look an awful guy, I know; but there's _such_ a wind, that +I've almost been blown to pieces." + +It was the first time that Rose's humble roof had had the privilege of +sheltering the daughter of the rich Jew. + +"I'm afraid I hardly expected you." The Pilot's daughter looked frankly +and with an amused smile at Rachel. "I'm in the middle of bottling +fruit. Do you mind coming into the kitchen?--the fruit will spoil if I +leave it." + +Leading the way, she was followed by her pretty caller, who, in all her +glory, seated herself on a cane-bottomed chair in the kitchen, and +commenced to gossip. + +"I've _such_ news," she said, tapping the pine floor with the ferrule of +her parasol. Rose continued to transfer her plums to the preserving-pan. +"I expect you heard of the dreadful experience I had with that horrid, +drunken digger who caught me on the foot-bridge--everybody heard of it. +Who do you think it was that saved me?" + +She waited for Rose to risk a guess. + +"I suppose," said the domestic girl, her arms akimbo as she faced her +visitor, "I should think it ought to have been Mr. Zahn." + +"Oh, him!" exclaimed Rachel, disgustedly. "I've jilted him--he was rude +to Papa." + +"Then _who_ could it be?" Rose placed more plums in the preserving-pan. + +"_You_ ought to know." Just the trace of a pout disfigured Rachel's +pretty mouth. "He's a friend of yours, I believe; a very great friend, +indeed." + +"I've a good many friends." The preserving-pan was now full, and Rose +sat down, to wait a few minutes till the fruit should be ready for +bottling. + +"Papa is simply in love with him. He says he can never repay him. And +how he laughed when I told him that my gallant rescuer threw the digger +into the water! Can't you guess who it is, _now_?" + +Rose was silent. + +"Really, I think this stupid cooking and jam-making has made you silly. +Why don't you work in the morning, and go out in the afternoon to see +your friends?" + +Rose turned her blue eyes on her visitor. They distinctly said, "What +business is that of yours?" But her lips said, "Now, really, how can +I?" + +"When a girl's engaged"--Rachel sighed as she spoke--"she doesn't care +much about society." + +Rose smiled. + +"At least that was the way with me." Rachel's carmine lips gave a little +quiver at the corners. "I suppose _you_ feel like that." + +"Me? I feel just as usual." + +"But you're so English, nothing would disturb _you_." + +Rose laughed aloud. "I should shriek if a digger touched me," she said. + +"But it was almost worth the fright, dear." Rachel leaned forward +confidentially. "First, he put me on his horse, and we forded the river +together; then, he took me home and was so kind. I _do_ think you're +_such_ a lucky girl." + +"Me? Why?" + +Suddenly Rachel's manner altered. Bursting into a rippling laugh, she +raised her parasol, and skittishly poked Rose in the ribs. + +"How very close some people are," she exclaimed. "But you might as well +own the soft impeachment, and then all the girls could congratulate +you." + +The thought went through Rose's mind, that if the good wishes of her +acquaintances were like this girl's perhaps they might well be spared. +She was completing her task by ladling the plums from the big pan into +the array of jars, and she bent over her work in order to hide her +annoyance. + +"And I hear he's _so_ rich," continued Rachel. "He's had such wonderful +luck on the diggings. Papa says he's one of the best marks in Timber +Town--barring old Mr. Crewe, of course." + +Rose gazed, open-eyed, at her visitor. + +"How much do you think he is worth?" asked Rachel, unabashed. + +"I really don't know. I have no notion whom you mean." + +Again the rippling laugh rang through the kitchen. + +"Really, this is too funny. Own up: wasn't Mr. Scarlett very lucky?" + +"Oh! Mr. Scarlett? I believe he got _some_ gold--he showed me some." + +"Surely, he had it weighed?" + +"I suppose so--I thought there was something in the paper about it." + +"Was all that gold Mr. Scarlett's?" + +"Yes, about as much as would fill this saucepan. He poured it out on the +dining-room table, and Captain Sartoris and my father stared at it till +their eyes almost dropped out." + +"You lucky girl! They say he gave you the dandiest ring." + +Rose mutely held out her unadorned fingers. When they had been closely +inspected, she said, "You see, this is all rubbish about my being +engaged. As for Mr. Scarlett, I have reason to think that he left his +heart behind him in the Old Country." + +"Confidences, my dear. If he has told you that much, it won't take you +long to hook him. We giddy girls have no chance against you deep, demure +stay-at-homes. The dear men dance and flirt with us, but they don't +propose. How I wish I had learned to cook, or even to bottle plums! +Fancy having a man all to yourself in a kitchen like this; making +a cake, with your sleeves tucked up to the elbows, and no one to +interrupt--why, I guarantee, he'd propose in ten minutes." She tapped +her front teeth with her finger. "I have to go to the dentist to-morrow. +I do hate it so, but I've got to have something done to one of my front +teeth. I'm thinking of getting the man to fill it with gold, and put a +small diamond in the middle. That ought to be quite fetching, don't you +think?" + +"It certainly would be unique." + +"I think I'll go along to Tresco's shop, and get the stone." + +"But don't you think the sight of a diamond in a tooth would pall after +a while? or perhaps you might loosen it with a bit of biscuit, and +swallow it. A diet of diamonds would pall, too, I fancy." + +"It's not the expense." Rachel pouted as she spoke. "The question is +whether it's done among smart people." + +"You could but try--your friends would soon tell you." + +"I believe it's quite the thing over in Melbourne." + +"Then why not in Timber Town?" + +"But perhaps it's only amongst actresses that it's 'the thing.'" + +"So that the glitter of their smiles may be intensified?" + +Rachel had risen from her seat. "I must be going," she said. "I looked +in for a minute, and I've stopped half-an-hour." + +"Then won't you stay just a little longer--I'm going to make some tea." + +"It's very tempting." Rachel took off her gloves, and displayed her +begemmed fingers. "I think I _must_ stop." + +Rose infused the tea in a brown earthenware pot, and filled two china +cups, in the saucers of which she placed two very old ornamented silver +teaspoons. + +The two girls sat at opposite sides of the white-pine table, in complete +contrast; the one dark, the other fair; the one arrayed in purple and +fine linen, the other dressed in plain starched print and a kitchen +apron; the one the spoilt pet of an infatuated father, the other +accustomed to reproof and domestic toil. + +But they met on common ground in their taste for tea. With lips, equally +pretty, they were sipping the fragrant beverage, when a hoarse voice +resounded through the house. + +"Rosebud, Rosebud, my gal! Where's my slippers? Danged if I can see them +anywhere." + +Into the kitchen stumped the Pilot of Timber Town, weary from his work. +Catching sight of Rachel, he paused half-way between the door and the +table. "Well, well," he said, "I beg pardon, I'm sure--bellowing like an +old bull walrus at my dar'ter. But the gal knows her old Dad--don't you, +Rosebud? He don't mean nothing at all." + +In a moment, Rose had the old man's slippers in her hand, and the Pilot +sat down and commenced to take off his boots and to put on the more +comfortable footgear. + +Rachel was on her feet in a moment. + +"I must be going," she said. "Which way do I get out?" + +"Rosebud, show the young lady the door--she's in a hurry." The Pilot +never so much as took his eyes off the boot that he was unlacing. + +Leading the way through the intricate passages, Rose conducted Rachel to +the front door, and came back, smiling. + +"Now, what does _she_ want?" asked the Pilot. "She's a mighty strange +craft to be sailing in these waters. There's a queer foreign rake about +her t'gallant mast that's new to me. Where's she owned, Rosebud?" + +"That's Miss Varnhagen." + +"What! the Jew's dar'ter? Well, well. That accounts for the cut of her +jib. Old Varnhagen's dar'ter? 'Want to sell anything?" + +Rose laughed. "Oh, no. She came, fishing." + +"Fishing?" + +"Fishing for news. She's very anxious to know how much gold Mr. Scarlett +has got; in fact, she's very anxious to know all about Mr. Scarlett." + +The old Pilot laughed, till the shingles of the roof were in danger of +lifting. "The wimmen, oh! the wimmen!" he said. "They're deep. There's +no sounding 'em. No lead'll bottom them. You'll have to protect that +young man, my gal; protect him from scheming females. Once they can +lure him on a lee shore, they'll wreck him to pieces and loot the cargo. +So she wanted to know how he was freighted? He's down to Plimsoll, my +gal; down to Plimsoll with gold. A mighty fine cargo for wreckers!" + + * * * + +At the very time that Rachel was walking out of the garden of roses, +Scarlett was turning into The Lucky Digger. He had come in from the +"bush," weary and tired, and was met in the passage by a man who packed +stores to the new gold-field. In the bar stood Isaac Zahn, who was +flirting with the bar-maid. But the regal dispenser of liquors responded +to the young clerk's sallies with merely the brief politeness which she +was paid to show towards all the customers of the inn. He could extort +no marked encouragement, in spite of every familiarity and witticism at +his command. + +Turning his back on the Israelite, Scarlett gave all his attention to +the packer. "The track's clear to the field," said Jack, "all but four +miles at the further end. In a few days, you'll be able to take your +horses through easily." + +"My rate is L15 per ton," said the man. + +"The Syndicate won't quarrel with that." Jack's head turned +involuntarily, as an unusual sound occurred in the bar-room. + +Zahn, leaning over the counter, had caught Gentle Annie roughly by the +wrist. There was a struggle, the crash of falling glass, and a scream. + +From the fair arm of the bar-maid blood was flowing. + +In a moment, Scarlett was in the bar-room. He seized the spruce +bank-clerk by the collar, and dragged him into the passage. + +Zahn kicked and swore; but, setting his teeth, Scarlett pulled his +struggling victim towards the front-door; and there, with a suddenness +which would have done credit to a field-gun, he kicked the Jew into the +street. + +The trajectory was low, but Zahn, with legs and arms extended, shot +across the asphalt pavement, and fell sprawling at the feet of a dainty +figure dressed in muslins and ribbons of rainbow hue. + +It was Rachel Varnhagen, tripping home to her tea. With a little scream +of elegant surprise, she dropped her parasol, and gazed at the prostrate +form of her jilted lover. + +Gathering himself up stiffly, Isaac stood, whimpering, before her; his +whining interspersed with unprintable invective. + +Scarlett, however, heedless of the anathemas of the stricken clerk, +stepped from the door of The Lucky Digger, picked up the fallen parasol, +and handed it politely to Rachel. + +In less than a moment she recognised him. + +"Oh, thanks," she said. "It's really awfully good of you." + +"What? To kick this unmitigated blackguard?" + +"I've no doubt he deserved it," she said, glancing with disgust at the +clerk. "It's charming of you to pick up my sunshade. I hope you're +coming up to see us--Papa wants to see you awfully. It would be lovely +if you would come to-night." + +"Thank you. I'll try. I hope you are none the worse for the fright you +got." + +"Thanks, I'm not dead. What a terrible man you are--I wouldn't like to +quarrel with you. Say eight o'clock." + +"Very good, eight." + +"Don't forget. I shall expect you." + +Zahn, who heard all the conversation, ground his teeth, and slunk away. +Rachel smiled her farewell and bowed to Jack, who lifted his hat, and +went into the inn, to see what could be done for the bar-maid's injured +wrist. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +A Small but Important Link in the Story. + + +The Timber Town Club was filled with ineffable calm. The hum of +convivial voices was hushed, the clicking billiard-balls were still, no +merry groups of congenial spirits chatted in ante-room, or dining-room. +All was strangely quiet, for most of the members were at the diggings, +and the times were too pregnant with business to warrant much +conviviality. + +Scarlett and Mr. Crewe alone sat in the reading-room, where the +magazines from England lay in perfect order on little tables, and steel +engravings, of which the Club was proud, hung upon the walls. Jack was +enjoying the luxury of a big easy chair, and the Father of Timber Town +sat upright in another. + +"I was asked out to spend the evening, yesterday," said Jack, lazily. + +"Indeed, asked to spend the evening?" replied the alert old gentleman. +"I can't say that I see anything remarkable in that, Scarlett." + +Jack smiled. "By a most charming young lady, I assure you." + +"Ah, that is another matter, quite a different matter, my dear sir." + +"Ostensibly, it was to meet her father, but hang me if the old gentleman +put in an appearance!" + +"Ho-ho! Better, Scarlett, better still. And what did you do, you +rascal?" + +"I did nothing. It was the young lady who took up the running." + +"But wasn't she provided with a judicious Mama, in the background +somewhere?" + +"No, a calamity seems to have befallen the Mama. She's _non est_." + +"That's very good. The girl depends for protection solely upon her +Papa?" + +"I remarked that, and said, 'Your Father will hardly approve of my +coming to see you in his absence.' 'Oh, you needn't mind that,' she +said--'he trusts me implicitly. And as for you--didn't you save me, the +other night?' You see, I found a drunken digger molesting her, and threw +him into the river. But I haven't so much as seen the old boy yet." + +"Quite so, quite so, but I want to hear about the girl--the father will +turn up in due time, and as for the digger, he at least would get a +bath." + +"I waited for her loving parent to come home, as it was supposed he +wanted to see me." + +"I see; I see: and what did he say when he came?" + +"He didn't say anything." + +"That was very churlish conduct, don't you think Scarlett?" + +"But, you see, he didn't come." + +"Didn't come home? Now, look here, Scarlett; now, look here, my good +fellow. You're getting into bad ways; you're courting temptation. By +Jupiter! they'll be marrying you next. They will, sir; they'll be +marrying you, before you know where you are; marrying you in a church. +And if they can't get you to church, they'll marry you before the +Registrar; by Jupiter! they will." + +"But she's a pretty girl, remember that." + +"She may be the most monstrous pretty girl, for all I care. But don't +you let her hook you, my boy. Women are all fudge, sir. Girls are mostly +dolls dressed in feathers and fine clothes. But I grant you that there's +some dignity in a woman who's a mother; but by forty she becomes old, +and then she must be a plaguey nuisance. No, Scarlett, I never married, +thank God. Fancy being at the beck and call of a crotchety old beldame, +at my time of life. No, sir; I never knew what it was to be questioned +and badgered when I came home at night, no matter if it was two in the +morning. I can do as I like, sir: I need not go home at all. I'm a free +man. Now, take my advice, Scarlett; be a free man too." + +"But you never could have been in love, Mr. Crewe." + +"Perhaps not; very likely not." + +Mr. Crewe had stood during the latter part of the dialogue, that he +might the more emphatically denounce matrimony; and Scarlett rose from +his comfortable chair, and stood beside him. + +"But do as I did, my dear sir"--the Father of Timber Town placed his +hand on Jack's sleeve--"and nothing disastrous will happen. Whenever a +young woman became very pressing, what do you think I used to do?" + +"I don't know. I don't see how I can tell. Perhaps you told her you had +an incurable disease, and had one foot in the grave." + +"No, sir; that would have made her marry me the quicker--in order to get +my money. No, I used to propose solemnly and in due form--on behalf of +my brother Julius. I would say, 'My dear young lady, my brother Julius +_ought_ to be married, and you are the girl to suit him. He is delicate, +affectionate in disposition, domesticated--quite the reverse of myself, +my dear--and you are the beau ideal companion for him.' But do you +believe that Julius is married? No, sir; not a bit of it; no more +married than I am--no, sir; as confirmed an old bachelor as ever you +saw. Very good, wasn't it? Just the way to deal with them, eh? Adopt the +plan, Jack; adopt the plan, and you'll escape as certainly as I did." + +"Look here," said Scarlett, "we'll go and see the banker; we ought to +have seen him this morning." + +The old gentleman chuckled. He perceived that his young friend had +changed the subject of conversation; but he also agreed that business +should come before gossip. + +It was but a brief walk from the Club to the Kangaroo Bank. + +"You're a god-send to this town, Jack; a perfect god-send. Do you know +that since you discovered this gold, sir, my properties in Timber Town +have increased twenty-five per cent. in value? And do you know that I +believe they will increase cent. per cent.? Imagine it, sir. Why, we +shall all be rich men." + +They passed out into the bright street, where the gaily-painted +shops shone in the blazing sun and the iron roofs of the verandahs +ticked with the midday heat. The door of the Bank stood open, that +the outer air might circulate freely through the big building. The +immaculately-attired clerk stood behind his counter, with a big piece of +plaster on his forehead; but Scarlett, taking no notice of the scowl he +received from the dark-featured Zahn, knocked at the door of the +Manager's room. + +Within the financial _sanctum_, a little shrivelled-up man sat at a +large table which was placed in the middle of the room. His face was +clean-shaven but for a pair of grizzled mutton-chop whiskers, and as he +bent over his papers he showed a little bald patch on the top of his +crown. + +Scarlett and Mr. Crewe stood side by side, in front of him. + +"I have come from the diggings," said Jack, "and have called to ask +..." + +"Oh ... How do you do, Mr. Crewe? Be seated, sir.... Be seated, both of +you.... A lovely day, Mr. Crewe; a perfectly beautiful day. Take a seat, +sir, I beg." + +But as the chairs stood a long way off against the wall, old Mr. Crewe +and Jack only glanced at them. + +"I've come to ask," continued Scarlett, "that you will establish a +branch of your Bank on Bush Robin Creek." + +The Manager looked first at Scarlett and then at Mr. Crewe. "You're very +good," he said. "Establish a branch on the diggings? Gentlemen, _do_ be +seated." So saying, he journeyed to a far wall, and returned with a +couple of chairs, which he dragged after him to where his visitors +stood. + +"It would be a great convenience to the diggers," said Jack, "to sell +their gold on the field, and receive drafts on your Bank. Then, they +would travel with more safety and less fear of being robbed." + +"It's worth thinking of," said the Manager, when he had seen that both +Scarlett and Mr. Crewe were seated. + +"It should be profitable to the Bank," said Mr. Crewe, "and that, sir, +is your main consideration." + +"The track will be completed in a few days," Scarlett remarked, "and +your agent couldn't possibly lose his way in the bush." + +"Could not lose his way? Exactly. It would be very awkward if he were to +get lost, with L20,000 in his possession." + +"I can imagine what sort of a losing it would be considered," said Mr. +Crewe, laughing. + +"How far is it to the field?" asked the Manager. + +"As the crow flies, about forty miles," replied Jack, "but by the track, +some eight or ten miles more." + +"The difficulty will be the escort," said the Manager. "There must be an +escort to convey gold to town. If the police, now, would give +assistance, it could be managed." + +"Failing them," said Jack, "the diggers would be only too glad to +provide an escort themselves." + +The banker smiled. "I was imagining that the Government might undertake +the transportation." + +"This is a detail," said Mr. Crewe. "It could be arranged when your +agent wished to come to town with all the gold he had bought on the +field." + +"I make the proposal to you on behalf of the syndicate which I +represent," said Jack. "There is a demand for a branch of your Bank on +Bush Robin Creek: communication is now easy, and the field is developing +fast." + +"I shall see to it, gentlemen; I shall do my best to oblige you." + +"And to benefit your institution," interjected Mr. Crewe. + +The Manager smiled the sycophantic smile of one who worships Mammon. "I +shall endeavour to meet the difficulty, Mr. Crewe. We shall see what can +be done." He rang his bell, and a clerk appeared. "Mr. Zahn is not at +the counter to-day," he said. + +"No, sir," said the clerk; "he is buying gold." + +"Very good; send him to me," said the Manager, and Isaac was quickly +summoned. + +"I shall require you to proceed to the diggings at Bush Robin Creek," +said the Manager, addressing the gold-clerk. "These gentlemen have made +representations to me which show that there is considerable business to +be done there by buying gold. You will hold yourself in readiness to +start in a couple of days. Does that suit you, sir?" he added, turning +to Scarlett. + +"Admirably," replied Jack. "I'll return to-morrow, and shall tell the +diggers that your agent is coming." + +"But why should you not travel together?" said the Manager. "You could +show Mr. Zahn the way." + +Isaac looked at Scarlett, and Scarlett looked at him. + +"I think I could find my way alone," said Zahn. + +Jack smiled. "I shall be only too glad to give any assistance I can; but +if Mr. Zahn prefers to travel by himself, of course there is the bare +chance that he might get off the track and be lost." + +"I'll risk it," said the Jew. "I'd rather get lost than be thrown over a +precipice." + +"Dear me, dear me," said Mr. Crewe, his voice and gesture expressive of +the utmost astonishment. "This looks bad, Jack; this is a very bad +beginning." + +"You mean that you don't quite appreciate this gentleman's overtures?" +asked the Manager. + +Zahn was silent. + +"We had a small difference in a hotel," said Jack. "But for my part I am +quite willing to let bygones be bygones." + +Zahn scowled. "That may be so," he said, "but I should prefer to travel +alone." + +"Dear, dear; well, well," said the Father of Timber Town. "But, after +all, this is a mere matter of detail which can be settled by and by. If +you go to the diggings, sir"--he turned his benignant gaze on the +clerk--"you will not only be in a most responsible position, but you +will be able to do such profitable business for your Bank, sir, that you +will probably earn promotion." + +"It's settled," said the Manager. "We shall send a representative, and I +hope that the arrangement will be satisfactory to all parties. I hope +you are contented, Mr. Crewe." + +"Perfectly, my dear sir, perfectly," said the Father of Timber Town. + +"Then you may consider the thing done," said the Manager; and ushering +his visitors from the room he conducted them to the garish street. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +The Signal-Tree. + + +"I jest walked in," said Dolphin, "an' I says, 'About thisyer +gold-escort: when does it start?' I says. The shrivelled party with the +whiskers looks at me acrost the counter, an' e' says, 'What business +is that of yours, my man?' 'None,' I says, ''xcept me an' my mate is +nervous of swaggin' our gold to town ourselves.' 'Don't you bother about +that,' 'e says. 'All you've got to do is to sell your gold to our agent +on the field, and leave the rest to him.' The escort will leave reg'lar, +accordin' to time-table; so we can stick it up, sure as Gawd made little +apples." + +"And what about goin' through the Bank?" asked Sweet William. + +"Now I ask you," said Dolphin, "what's the use of messing with the Bank, +when we can clean out the gold-escort, an' no one the wiser?" + +"Same here. My opinion," said Gentleman Carnac. + +"I'm slick agin letting the Bank orf," growled Garstang. "Why not let +the escort get its gold to the Bank, and then nab everything in the +show. The original plan's the best." + +"I gave you credit for more sense, Garstang." The leader of the gang +looked darkly at his subordinate. "I gave you credit for knowing more of +your trade." + +"More credit, eh?" asked the man with the crooked mouth. "For why?" + +The four rascals were in the cottage where they had met before, and the +room reeked with the smoke of bad tobacco. + +"Why?" replied Dolphin. "Because you're the oldest hand of the lot, an' +you've been in the business all your life." + +"Jes' so," said Garstang, with an evil smile. "'Xcept when I've bin the +guest of the Widow." + +"Which has been pretty frequent," interjected Sweet William. + +"To clean the Bank out is easy enough," said Dolphin: "the trouble is +to get away with the stuff. You ought to see that with half an eye. To +stick up the escort requires a little skill, a little pluck; but as for +gettin' away with the gold afterwards, that's child's play." + +"Dead men don't tell no tales," remarked Sweet William. + +"But their carcases do," objected Garstang. + +"You beat everything!" exclaimed the leader, growing almost angry. +"Ain't there such a thing as a shovel? No wonder you were copped pretty +often by the traps, Garstang." + +"You two men wrangle like old women," said Carnac. "Drop it. Tell us +what's the first thing to do." + +"To go an' look at the country," answered Dolphin. + +"That's it.... Go it.... Dolphin controls the whole push.... Jest do as +'e tells." Garstang was evidently annoyed that the leadership of the +murderous gang, which had once been his, had passed out of his hands. + +Dolphin took no notice of the remarks. "We shall have plenty time to get +to work, 'cause the Bank can't bring the gold to town till it's bought +it, and it can't begin to buy it till the agent reaches the field, an' +he only started to-day." + +"Every blessed thing's ready," chimed in Sweet William, who was +evidently backing the new leader strongly. "Carny an' me's bin through +the guns, an' they're all clean an' took to bits ready for putting in +the swags. When they're packed, not a trap in the country but wouldn't +take us for the garden variety of diggers, 2 dwts. to the dish, or even +less. Quite mild, not to say harmless, gruel-fed, strictly vegetarian--a +very useful an' respectable body of men." + +Dolphin smiled at the young man's witticism. "It doesn't need for more +than two to go," he said. "There's no use in making a public show of +ourselves, like a bloomin' pack-train. Two's plenty." + +"I'll stop at 'ome," growled Garstang. "It's your faik, Dolphin--you +planned it. Let's see you carry it out." + +"I'll go," volunteered William. "Carny can stop behind an' help keep +Garstang's temper sweet." In his hilarity he smacked the sinister-faced +man on the back. + +"Keep your hands t' yerself," snarled Garstang, with an oath. "You're +grown too funny, these days--a man'd think you ran the show." + +"Lord, what a mug!" Young William grimaced at Garstang's sour face. "But +it'll sweeten up, ole man, when the gold's divided." + +"We're wasting time," broke in Dolphin. "We must be getting along. Pack +your swag, William: mine's at The Bushman's Tavern." + +"Matilda is ready," exclaimed the youthful member of the gang, picking +up his swag from the floor, and hitching it on to his shoulders. "Gimme +that long-handled shovel, Carny--it'll look honest, though it weighs +half a ton. Well, so-long." + +He shook the bad-tempered Garstang, slapped Carnac on the back, and +followed Dolphin from the cottage. + +While this ominous meeting was being held, Jake Ruggles might have been +observed to be acting in a most extraordinary manner in the back-garden +of Tresco's shop. In the middle of a patch of ill-nourished cabbages +which struggled for existence amid weeds and rubbish, he had planted a +kitchen chair. On the back of this he had rested a long telescope, which +usually adorned the big glass case which stood against the wall behind +the shop-counter. This formidable instrument he had focussed upon the +pinnacle of a wooded height, which stood conspicuous behind the line of +foot-hills, and, as he peered at the distant mountain-top, he gave vent +to a string of ejaculations, expressive of interest and astonishment. + +Upon the top of the wooded mountain a large tree, which he could +distinguish with the naked eye, stood conspicuous; a tree which spread +its branches high above its fellows, and silhouetted its gigantic shape +against the sky-line. Directing his telescope upon this remarkable giant +of the forest, by aid of its powerful lenses he could see, projecting +from the topmost branch, a flag, which upon further observation proved +to be nothing less than the red ensign employed on merchant ships; and +it was this emblem of the mercantile marine which so amazed and +interested the youthful Ruggles. + +"The ole beggar's got his pennant out," he exclaimed, as he smacked his +lean shanks and again applied his eye to the telescope. "That means a +spree for Benjamin. The crafty ole rascal'll be comin' in to-night. It +means his tucker supply's given out, an' I must fly round for bacon, +tea, sugar, bread, flour; an' I think I'll put in a tin or two of jam, +by way of a treat." + +He took a long look at the signal, and then shut up the telescope. + +"It's quite plain," he soliloquised: "the old un's comin' in. I must +shut up shop, and forage. Then, after dark, I'll take the tucker to the +ford." + +But, as though a sudden inspiration had seized him, he readjusted his +instrument and once more examined the conspicuous tree. + +"Why, he's there himself, sittin' in a forked bough, an' watchin' me +through his glass." Placing the telescope gently on the ground, Jake +turned himself into a human semaphore, and gesticulated frantically with +his arms. "That ought to fetch 'im," and he again placed his eye to the +telescope. "Yes, he sees. He's wavin' his 'at. Good old Ben. It's better +than a play. Comic opera ain't in it with this sort o' game. He's fair +rampin' with joy 'cause I seen 'im." Shutting up his instrument, Jake +gave a last exhibition of mad gesticulations, danced a mimic war-dance, +and then, with the big telescope under his arm, he went into the house. + +It was a long stretch of tangled forest from the big tree to Tresco's +cave, but the goldsmith was now an expert bushman, versed in the ways of +the wilderness, active if not agile, enduring if still short of breath. +His once ponderous form had lost weight, his once well-filled garments +hung in creases on him, but a look of robust health shone in his eye and +a wholesome tan adorned his cheek. He strode down the mountain as though +he had been born on its arboreous slopes. Without pause, without so much +as a false step, he traversed those wild gullies, wet where the dew +still lay under the leafy screen of boughs, watered by streams which +gurgled over mighty boulders--a wilderness where banks of ferns grew in +the dank shade and the thick tangle of undergrowth blocked the +traveller's way. + +But well on into the afternoon Tresco had reached the neighbourhood of +his cave, where his recluse life dragged out its weary days. His route +lay for a brief mile along the track which led to the diggings. Reaching +this cleared path, where locomotion was easier, the goldsmith quickened +his pace, when suddenly, as he turned a corner, he came upon two men +walking towards him from Timber Town. + +In a moment he had taken cover in the thick underscrub which lined each +side of the track, and quickly passing a little way in the direction +from which he had come, he hid himself behind a dense thicket, and +waited for the wayfarers to pass by. + +They came along slowly, being heavy laden. + +"I tell yer I seen the bloke on the track, Dolly, just about here," said +the younger man of the two. "One moment he was here, next 'e was gone. +Didn't you see 'm?" + +"I must ha' bin lookin' t'other way, up the track," said the other. "I +was thinkin' o' somethin'. I was thinkin' that this place, just here, +was made a-purpose for our business. Now, look at this rock." + +He led his companion to the inner edge of the track, where a big rock +abutted upon the acute angle which the path made in circumventing the +forest-clad hill-side. Placing their "swags" on the path the two men +clambered up behind the rock, and Tresco could hear their conversation +as he lay behind the thick scrub opposite them. + +"See?" said Dolphin, as he pointed up the track in the direction of +Timber Town. "From here you can command the track for a half-a-mile." + +Sweet William looked, and said, "That's so--you can." + +"Now, look this way," Dolphin pointed down the track in the direction of +the diggings. "How far can you see, this way?" + +"Near a mile," replied William. + +"Very good. We plant two men behind this rock, and two over there in the +bush, on the opposite side, and we can bail up a dozen men. Eh?" + +"It's the place, the identical spot, Dolly; but I should put the other +two men a little way up the track--we don't want to shoot each other." + +"Just so. It would be like this: we have 'em in view, a long while +before they arrive; they're coming up hill, tired, and goin' slow; we're +behind perfect cover." + +"I don't see how we can beat it, unless it is to put a tree across the +road, just round the corner on the Timber Town side." + +"No, no. That'd give the show away. That'd identify the spot. There're +a hundred reasons against it. A tree across the track might stop the +diggers as well, and the first party that come along would axe it +through, and where would our log be then? It would never do. But let's +get down, and have a drink. Thank Gawd, there's a bottle or two left in +my swag." + +Tresco saw them clamber down from the rock, and drink beer by the +wayside. Only too quickly did he recognise these men, who looked like +diggers but behaved so strangely; but the sight of the liquor was almost +more than he could bear, yet not daring to stir a finger lest he should +be discovered he was forced to see them drink it. + +Indeed, they made quite a meal; eating bread and cheese, which they +washed down with their favourite beverage. When the bottles were empty, +Dolphin flung them into the bushes opposite to him, and the missiles, +shivering into hundreds of pieces, sprinkled the goldsmith with broken +glass. + +He stifled a wordy protest which rose to his lips, and lay still; and +shortly afterwards he had the pleasure of seeing the undesirable +strangers hump their "swags" and retrace their steps towards Timber +Town. + +When they had disappeared, Tresco came from his hiding-place. He looked +up and down the track. "Just so," he soliloquised, "half-a-mile this +way, a mile that. Good cover.... Commanding position. What's their +little game? It seems to me that there are bigger rascals than Benjamin +in Timber Town." And with this salve applied to his conscience, the +goldsmith pursued his way towards his dismal cavern. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +The Goldsmith Comes to Town the Second Time. + + +Tresco stood in the yellow light of the paraffin lamp, and gazed in +wonderment at Gentle Annie. He was a tattered and mournful object; his +boots worn out, his trousers a marvel of patchwork, his coat a thing +discoloured and torn, his hair and beard unshorn, himself a being +unrecognisable by his former friends. + +Gentle Annie's attitude betokened the greatest surprise. With her hands +on her bosom, her lips parted, her cheeks pale, her eyes frightened, she +stood, and timidly returned the gaze of the strange man before her. + +"What do you want?" she asked, so soon as she could find her voice. "Why +do you come here?" + +"Don't be alarmed," said Benjamin reassuringly. "First, let me tell you +that I'm your friend and protector. Do you forget Tresco the goldsmith?" + +Gentle Annie gave vent to a little cry of astonishment. + +"I am an outlaw,"--he spoke as if he were defending himself before his +peers--"an outcast, a hunted dog. My own house is unsafe, so I came here +for protection and a little comfort." He dropped suddenly into quite a +sentimental tone of voice. "I haven't spoken to a soul, save my lad, for +over six weeks. I'm a bit lonesome and miserable; and I badly need a +well-cooked meal." + +"But if you stop here"--Gentle Annie's ample bust rose and fell with +agitation--"the police will catch you." + +"They'd think of looking for me in the moon before they came here, my +dear; besides I have no intention of stopping. I only want rest and +food." + +"I'll do what I can for you, but you must go almost directly." + +"Why, certainly." Tresco sat down, and drew a deep breath. "It's good to +look at a wholesome woman again--it seems years since I saw one." + +A smile passed over Gentle Annie's face, and her eyes twinkled with +merriment. "I see you're not cured of your old weakness," she said. + +"No, my dear; and I hope I never shall be." Benjamin had rallied from +his depression. "On the contrary, it increases." + +They were a strange couple--the wild-looking man on one side of the +table, and the fine figure of a woman who emitted a faint odour of +patchouli, on the other. + +"I suppose you know I'm my own mistress now." + +"It looks like it. I understood something of the kind from Jake." + +"I objected to be pulled about indiscriminately, so I left The Lucky +Digger. A rough brute cut my arm with a broken glass." She rolled up her +sleeve, and showed the scar of the newly-healed wound. + +Benjamin took the soft, white arm in his hand, and gave it just the +suspicion of a squeeze. + +"I wish I'd bin there, my dear: I'd ha' chucked him through the window." + +"Mr. Scarlett--who has been so lucky on the diggings--kicked him out of +the house on to the pavement." + +"Ah! but did he do the thing properly, scientifically?" + +"I think so. And when he found the boss blaming me for the row, he +turned on him like a tiger. But afterwards old Townson gave me the +office, so I've retired into private life. Do you like my rooms?" + +"A trifle small, don't you think?" said Benjamin. + +"Cozy." + +"My dear, where you are it can't help being cozy." + +"After that I'll get you something to eat. What do you say to grilled +steak and onions?" + +"Delicious! Couldn't be better." + +Gentle Annie bustled out to the safe, at the back of the house, and +returned with a dish of red and juicy meat. + +"And to follow, you shall have stewed plums and cream." + +"Better than ever," said Benjamin; his mouth watering behind his ragged +beard. + +"I believe I understand mankind," said Gentle Annie, going to a +cupboard, whence she took a big bottle, which she placed on the table. + +"If all the women in the world understood men as you do, my dear, we +should have Arcadia here, instead of Gehennum." + +"Instead of what?" + +"Gehennum, my dear; a place where they drive men into the wilderness and +cut them off from supplies, and they rot in damp caves, destitute of +bread, beer, and even tobacco." + +"No; I really can't supply that last. If I let you smoke, some old cat +would come sniffing round to-morrow morning, and say, 'Phew! a _man_ has +been here.' Good food and drink you shall have, but no tobacco." + +"But you'll let me wash?" + +"Certainly. Cleanliness is next to godliness. If you can't have the one, +I wouldn't bar you from the other." She led him to the door of her +bedroom, and said, "Walk in." + +The room was a dainty affair of muslin blinds and bed-hangings. To +Benjamin it was a holy of holies dedicated to the sweet, the lovely, +the inscrutable. All the feminine gear lying around, the little pots of +powder and ointment, the strange medicaments for the hair, the mirrors, +the row of little shoes, the bits of jewellery lying on fat pincushions, +the skirts and wrappers and feminine finery hanging behind the door, +these and fifty other things appealed to the softest spot in his +susceptible nature. He took up the ewer, and poured water into the +basin; but he was ashamed to place his dirty coat on a thing so clean +as was the solitary dimity-covered chair, so he put the ragged garment +on the floor. Then he took up a pink cake of soap, and commenced his +ablutions. + +A strong and agreeable odour tickled his olfactory nerves--the cooking +had begun. Though his ears were full of lather, he could hear the meat +frying in the pan, and the spluttering of the fat. + +"What punishment do they give to people who harbour malefactors?" Gentle +Annie called from over her cooking. + +"Who's a malefactor?" called Tresco from the middle of a towel with +which he was drying his roseate face. + +"What are _you_ then?" + +"I'm a gentleman at large, my dear. No one has charged me with anything +yet, let alone convicted me." + +"But there's a warrant out against you, old gentleman." + +"Maybe. I haven't seen it." + +"But what's _my_ position?" + +"You're accessory after the fact, if there is a fact." + +"What am I liable for?" + +"That depends on the judge, my dear. It might be two, three, or more +kisses. If I was on the bench, the sentence would be as heavy as +possible, and I'd insist on executing it myself." + +A laugh came from over the frying-pan. + +"If you're not careful, old party, you'll have some of this hot fat on +your head." + +Benjamin had finished his toilette, and walked into the other room. + +The small, square table was spread with a white cloth, and a place was +set for one. + +"But, my dear, won't you partake?" said Benjamin, eyeing the arrangement +of the table. + +"I'm not hungry," the girl replied. "I'll watch the lion feed." + +The little room was filled with the smell of cooked viands, and Tresco +seated himself in readiness to eat. + +The smoking steak, garnished with fried onions and potatoes, was placed +before him. + +"For what I am about to receive, my dear, I thank you." Gently squeezing +the ex-bar-maid's hand, he kissed it. + +"Now, that'll do. You're getting giddy in your old age--it must be the +effect of the steak. Cupboard love, cupboard love!" + +Tresco drew the cork of the big bottle, which he handed to Gentle Annie. + +"What's this for?" she asked. + +"You pour it out, my dear. It'll make it taste so much sweeter." + +"You gay old deceiver: you're like the rest of them." + +"No, my dear: they're imitation; I'm the genuine article." + +Gentle Annie filled his tall glass deftly, so that the froth stood in a +dome over the liquor. She was about to replace the bottle on the table, +when Tresco took a tumbler from the dresser, and filled it for her. + +"Keep me company," he said. "It looks more comfortable." + +"But stout's so fattening." + +"My dear, a lean woman is a reproach to her sex." + +"Then, what's a fat one?" + +"A credit, like I am to mine, or used to be before I got thin through +semi-starvation. Here's to your very good health; may your beauty never +grow less." Benjamin raised his glass to his lips. + +"More flattery." Gentle Annie's comfortable laugh shook her whole body. +"I'm sorry I can't return the compliment." + +"You do better: you supply the inner man--steak, done to a turn; stout; +sweet stuffs. You couldn't have treated me better, if I'd been a +bishop." + +"Why a bishop?" + +"I've looked round, and taken stock of my fellows; and I think a bishop +has a rousing good time, don't you?" + +"I can't say; I don't often entertain bishops." + +"Bishops and licensed victuallers; I think they get the cream of life." + +"But what about lords and dukes?" + +"They have to pay through the nose for all they get, but bishops and +landlords get all their good things chucked in gratuitous. Of course a +bishop's more toney, but a publican sees more of life--honours, meaning +good tucker and liquor, divided." + +Tresco attacked the juicy steak: his satisfaction finding expression in +murmurs of approval. He finished the stout with as much relish as if it +had been the richest wine; and then Gentle Annie took from the cupboard +two glass dishes, the one half-filled with luscious red plums swimming +in their own juice, the other containing junket. + +Tresco had almost forgotten the taste of such food. While he was eating +it Gentle Annie made some tea. + +"Is this the way you treat the toffs, when they come to see you?" + +"Toffs? You're the greatest toff that has come to see me, so far." + +"I shall come again." + +"Do you know there's a reward offered for you?" + +"How much?" + +"Twenty pounds." + +"Is that all? I'll give it you, my dear." + +From his dirty rags he pulled out a small linen bag, from which he +emptied upon a clean plate a little pile of nuggets. + +Gentle Annie was lost in wonderment. Her eyes glistened, and she turned +the pieces of gold over with her finger covetously. + +"These should go close on L4 to the ounce," remarked the goldsmith, as +he separated with the blade of a table-knife a portion of the gold +equal to what he guessed to be five ounces, and the remainder he +replaced in the bag. + +"That's for you," he said, pushing the plate towards her. + +Gentle Annie gleefully took the gold in her hands. + +"You generous old party!" she exclaimed. "I know when I am well off." + +They now drank tea out of dainty cups, and Benjamin took a pipe and +tobacco from his pocket. + +"I really must have a smoke to settle my dinner," he said. + +"Of course," said she; "it was only my fun. I smoke myself." Taking a +packet from the mantelpiece, she lighted a cigarette, which she handed +to Tresco, when a low knock was heard at the door. + +In a moment she had blown out the light, and led the erring goldsmith to +her inner room, where he stood, apprehensive but alert. From his belt he +drew a knife, and then he furtively examined the fastenings of the +muslin-draped window. + +He heard his hostess open the door and speak to her visitor, who replied +in a deep voice, at some length. But, presently, the door closed, the +steps of the visitor were heard departing, and Gentle Annie softly +entered the room. + +"You're quite safe," she said. + +"Who was it?" + +"Only a friend of mine. He's gone. He won't call again to-night." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +Amiria Plays Her Highest Card in the Game of Love. + + +Scarlett was bound for the gold-fields. He bestrode a tall chestnut +mare, with white "socks." In the cool of the morning, with the dew +sparkling on the hedges and the birds twittering in the orchards, he +rode out of Timber Town. + +He crossed the ford where he had rescued Rachel from the clutches of the +digger, and had turned into the gorge which led through the foot-hills +when he came suddenly upon Amiria, waiting for him, with her horse +standing across the road. + +She was dressed in a perfectly-fitting habit of dark blue cloth, a hard +felt hat, and in her hand she carried a dainty whip; but her feet were +bare, and one pretty toe protruded from the stirrup. + +"I'm hanged!" exclaimed Jack. "Who ever expected to see you here, at +this time of the morning?" + +The Maori girl laughed. "I knew you were going to-day--Rose Summerhayes +told me. So I said to myself, 'I'll go to the diggings too; I'll see how +they get this gold.' Perhaps I may find some myself. Is it far?" + +"About fifty miles. But I can't take you to the field." + +"Why not? I shan't steal anything." + +Scarlett could not forbear a smile. "I don't mean that," he said. "I was +thinking what the fellows would say." + +Amiria's merry laugh rang through the narrow valley. "Oh, you _Pakeha_ +people, how funny you are--always troubled by what others may think +about you, always bothering about the day after to-morrow. Yet I think +it's all put on: you do just the same things as the Maori. I give it up. +I can't guess it. Come on; see if your horse can trot mine." + +She flicked her big bay that she was riding, and started off at a +swinging pace. And so, Scarlett riding on the soft turf on one side of +the road and Amiria on the other, they raced till they came to the next +ford. + +"I beat!" cried the Maori girl, her brown cheeks glowing with +excitement. + +The horses were given a mouthful of water, and then they splashed +through the shallows; their iron shoes clanking on the boulders as dry +land was reached. + +"You are very rich, aren't you?" Amiria asked, as they walked their +horses side by side. + +"What do you mean by rich?" + +"Oh, you have lots of gold, money, everything you want." + +"Not by any means." + +"You must be very greedy, then. They tell me you have thousands of +pounds in the bank, a big house which you are building, and a fine +girl." + +"A girl?" + +"Yes, Rahera Varnhagen. Isn't she a fine girl?" + +"Rachel Varnhagen!" + +"Yes. I was in the old man's store yesterday, buying things for the +_pa_, and he told me he had given his girl to you." + +Jack opened his eyes in astonishment. He wondered who was the liar, the +Jew or the Maori girl, but all he said was, "Well, I'm hanged!" + +Amiria laughed. "You see, these things can't be kept dark." + +"But it's all a yarn. I'm not engaged to anybody. Can't a man talk to a +girl, without all Timber Town saying he is going to marry her?" + +"I don't know. Don't you like her?" + +"I think she's very pretty, but that doesn't necessarily mean I want to +marry her." + +"Then you _don't_ like her?" + +"I like her only as a friend." + +"Shall I tell her that?" + +Jack thought for a moment. He had suddenly become rather suspicious of +women-folk. + +"It might hurt her feelings," he said. + +"If you don't speak the truth, she will think you mean to marry her." + +"Then, tell her I don't mean to do anything of the sort." + +Amiria laughed softly to herself. "That leaves two," she said. + +"Leaves two? What do you mean?" + +"There are three girls in love with you. Rahera was one--she is out of +it. That leaves two." + +"This is the very dickens! Who are the other two, pray?" + +"Rose Summerhayes is one." + +Jack laughed. "She is too discreet, too English, to give her love, +except where she is certain it will be returned." + +"You can't tell: you don't know." Amiria had reined in her horse beside +Jack's. "She is always talking about you. She talks about you in her +sleep--I know: I have heard her." + +"No, no; you make a mistake. She's a great friend of mine, but that is +all. Who's the other daring girl?" + +"You know," replied Amiria, with a pout. + +"How am I to presume to think of such a thing?" + +"You know quite well." + +"Upon my honour, I don't." + +"Does a girl ride with you, if she doesn't like you?" + +"Depends upon the girl." + +"Would I trouble to meet you, if I didn't?" + +"Then it's you? Upon my word! This is overwhelming." + +"But _I_ have a right to tell you--I saved your life. I know you as +other girls don't." + +"Oh, I say, this is a bit rough on a fellow. I couldn't help getting +shipwrecked, you know." + +"But I saved you. I have the right to you first. If you don't like me, +then you can marry some other girl." + +"I don't think you understand, Amiria. Of course I'm awfully indebted to +you. As you say, I owe you my life. But if I marry you, I can't marry +anybody else afterwards." + +The Maori girl had jumped from her horse, and Scarlett was standing +beside her. The horses grazed on the grassy bank of the stream. + +"I know all the ways of your people," said Amiria: "I was sent to school +to learn them. Some I think good; some I think bad. Your marriage is +like the yoke you put on bullocks. It locks you tight together. Before +you know really whether you like each other you have this yoke put on +you: you are tied up for ever. The Maori way is better. We have our +marriage too--it is like the bridle on my horse, light, easy, but good. +We only put it on when we know that we like each other. That's the way I +wish to be married, and afterwards I would get your priest to give us +his marriage, so that I might be _tika_ in the eyes of the _Pakeha_ +people." + +As she spoke, her eyes flashed and her whole attitude was masterful, if +not defiant; her cheek coloured, her mouth quivered with excitement, her +gestures, as well as her speech, were full of animation. Evidently, she +was giving expression to the warmest feelings of her passionate nature. + +Scarlett held a small _manuka_ stick, plucked from a flowering bush by +the wayside. With this he struck his leather legging repeatedly, as he +walked to and fro in agitation. Pausing by the river's brim, he gazed +into the rippling water. + +"This is something like marriage by capture," he said, "but the tables +are turned on the man. The thing may be all right for you, but I should +lose caste. With all your tuition, Amiria, you don't understand _Pakeha_ +ways. I could marry you, English fashion; but I haven't the least +intention of doing so." + +The Maori girl had followed him, and as he gave his decision her arm was +linked through his. + +The tethered horses were cropping the grass, regardless of their riders. +Scarlett, wrestling with the problem that confronted him, was still +gazing at the water. + +But a sob recalled him to his duty. His companion's whole frame was +quivering with emotion, and, as he turned, his eyes were met by hers +steadfastly regarding him through their tears. + +"You had better go home," he said. "The best place for you is the _pa_. +The best way for you to show your regard for me is to turn back." + +She had shot her one bolt, and it had missed its mark. She turned her +head aside, and hid her face in her hands. Slowly and disconsolately, +she walked towards her horse, and unloosing him from the bush to which +he was tied, she climbed into the saddle. + +Her whip had dropped on the grass. Picking it up, Scarlett took it to +her. She looked the picture of misery, and his heart began to melt. Her +right hand hung limply at her side, and as he was putting the whip into +it, he pressed her fingers gently. She did not draw her hand away, but +left it in his clasp: gradually her tears dried, and a smile came into +her face. + +"Hullo!" said a strange voice behind them. "Spoonin'? Don't mind me, +mate: I've bin there myself." + +They turned their heads, to see four grinning men behind them on the +track. + +"Hold on, Carny; step behind the bushes, an' give the couple a chanst. +Boys will be boys. Can't you see the young feller was about to enjoy a +kiss?" + +"Take her orf the horse, mate," said another of the men. "Go for a walk +with her--we'll mind the horses. We won't take no notice." + +Flushing with anger, Amiria drew herself up. + +"You'd better go," said Scarlett. "I'll attend to these men." + +Without another word the Maori girl turned her horse's head for home, +walked him quietly past Dolphin and his gang, without taking the least +notice of any of them, and then cantered away. + +As she did so the four men burst into hoarse laughter and obscene +remarks. + +Scarlett walked menacingly towards Garstang, who had been the chief +offender. + +"You filthy brute," he said, "what do you mean?" + +"Filthy, eh?" retorted Garstang. "D'you 'ear that, Dolly? An' I suppose +my mates is filthy too, eh, mister?" + +"Jab 'im in the mouth, Garstang." This advice from Sweet William. + +But Dolphin settled the matter. With a revolver in his hand he stepped +towards the menacing Scarlett. + +"Now, hook it," he said. "If you can't take a bit of chaff without +turning nasty, don't think you can get up to any of your funny business +here. I give you three minutes in which to clear." + +As Scarlett, following the general practice of the diggers, went +unarmed, he could only reply by acting upon dictation; but before he +turned to go, he looked well at the men before him. Then he mounted his +horse, and rode away. + +He quickly forded the stream, and, without turning his head to look +again at the strange gang, he plunged into the dense forest which +stretched across mountain and valley. As he climbed the slopes of the +range over which the track led him, the sun shone brightly and not a +cloud was in the sky. The air was so still that even at the summit of +the range, 2000 feet and more above the sea, not the slightest breeze +stirred. The atmosphere was oppressive, and, three parts of the way down +the further slope, where a clear rivulet crossed the path, Jack was fain +to rest beneath the shade of a giant tree-fern, and eat and drink. There +was not a creature to harm him; no venomous reptile, no ravenous beast +dwelt in those vast sub-tropical forests; no poisonous miasma reeked +from the moist valleys below; in the evergreen trees countless pigeons +cooed, _kaka_ parrots and green paroquets screamed, and black +parson-birds sang. It was a picture of Nature in one of her most +peaceful and happy moods. Forgetful of the distractions which he had +left behind him, Jack's mind had turned to the contemplation of the +bright prospects which lay before him, when his reverie was broken by +the sound of voices and the noise of horses' hoofs; and round a bend of +the track, slowly ascending the uncertain gradient, appeared the +gold-escort. + +Leading the cavalcade, rode a mounted constable dressed in a blue tunic, +with silver buttons, dun-coloured, corded riding-breeches, top-boots, +and a blue shako. His carbine was slung negligently, and he whistled as +he rode. + +Behind him came Isaac Zahn, sitting loosely on his horse; a revolver +strapped in its case at his belt. He was followed by an unarmed mounted +man who led the pack-horse which carried the gold; and an armed digger, +who rode a white horse, brought up the rear. + +The leading horse whinnied, and Jack's mare answered. + +"Good morning," said the constable, reining up. "A beautiful day, sorr. +Have ye such a thing as a match wid you?" + +Jack, who was smoking, handed a box of matches to the man, who lighted +his pipe. The whole cavalcade had come to a halt, and Zahn, who +pretended not to recognise Jack, sat on his horse, and scowled. + +Scarlett's eyes involuntarily fixed themselves on the heavily-laden +pack-horse. + +"I should advise you to keep your weather eye lifted, constable," he +said. + +"Bedad, an' we'll attend to that," replied the Irishman, with a broad +smile. "The escort's as good as in Timber Town already. Thank you, +sorr." He handed back the matches. "Good morning t'you." And lightly +touching his horse with the spur, he passed on. + +Disregarding Scarlett's nod of recognition, Zahn followed the leader, +without so much as a glance at the man whom he hated as his supposed +supplanter in the affections of the beautiful Jewess. + +The pack-horse and its leader, a stoutly-built man, went heavily by, and +the rear-guard let his horse drink at the stream, but he was a man +filled with the importance of his office, and to Jack's greeting he +replied merely with a mechanical nod, as though he would say, "Don't +speak to me: I'm exceedingly intent upon conveying this gold to Timber +Town." + +"Strange crowd," mused Jack, as the last hoof disappeared round the +upper bend of the track; "riding loose in the saddle, their arms slung +behind them. If I'd had a gun, I could have shot the first man before he +saw me. Robbing escorts can't be such a difficult matter as is supposed. +If Zahn had been civil I'd have used the opportunity to warn him of the +queer gang I met at the ford. They may be simple diggers--they look like +it--but the man who whips out a pistol on the least provocation is to be +guarded against when you're in charge of five or six thousand ounces of +gold." + +With these thoughts Jack mounted his horse, and rode away. The winding +track at length led him into a deep valley, down which flowed a broad +river whose glistening waters rippled laughingly over a shallow bed of +grey boulders. Along its banks grew mighty pines, the _rimu_, the +_totara_, and the broad-spreading black-birch, their trunks hidden in +dense undergrowth and a tangle of creepers; while here and there beside +the sparkling waters grew thick clumps of bright green tree-ferns. + +But the track was now flat and straight, and putting his horse into +a trot Scarlett covered the ground rapidly. After some ten miles of +riding, he came to a ford where the track crossed the river, and entered +rougher country. As he drew rein at the verge of the water to let his +horse drink, he noticed that the heavens had suddenly become dark. +Looking at the strip of sky revealed by the treeless stretch above the +waters, he saw a phenomenon in the upper air. Across the tranquil blue +expanse advanced a mighty thunder-cloud; its unbroken face approaching +at immense speed, though not a leaf of the forest stirred, nor the frond +of a fern moved. It was like the oncoming of a mighty army, sweeping +across the still country, and leaving devastation in its track. Then +the low rumble of the thunder, like the sound of cannon in the distant +hills, heralded the commencement of the storm. A flash broke from the +inky black cloud, and simultaneously a deafening thunder-clap burst upon +the solitary traveller. Then followed an ominous silence, broken by +the rushing of the wind among the tree-tops, and the high heads of the +forest giants bent before the storm. The rain came down in a deluge, +and shut from sight both hill and valley; so that instead of wandering +through a leafy paradise, where birds sang and the sunshine glittered +on a million leaves, Scarlett groped his way as in a maze, dark and +impenetrable; his horse dejected, himself drenched and cold. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +In Tresco's Cave. + + +Tresco stood in his dark, dank cavern, and meditated upon the loneliness +of life. + +He was naturally a sociable man, and loved the company of his fellows, +but here he was living a hermit's existence, shut up in the bowels of +the earth, with no better associates than the clammy stalactites which +constantly dripped water upon the white, calcareous floors. + +The atmosphere was so cold that it chilled the marrow of the goldsmith's +bones, and to render habitable the inner recess where he lived he was +forced to keep a fire perpetually burning. To do this it was necessary +for him to sally into the daylight, in order that he might collect +firewood, of which there was in the neighbourhood of the cave an +abundant supply. + +Groping his way slowly through the winding passage, every twist and +turn of which he knew in the dark, Benjamin passed into the lofty cavern +which he had named the Cathedral, where the stalactites and stalagmites, +meeting, had formed huge columns, which seemed to support the great +domed roof overhead. This was a place which Tresco was never tired of +admiring. "A temple built without hands," he said, as he held aloft his +candle, and viewed the snow-white pillars which stood on either side of +what he named the Nave. + +"What a place to preach in." He who has no companions must needs talk +to himself if he would hear the human voice. "Here, now, a man _could_ +expatiate on the work of the Creator, but his sermon would have to be +within the fifteen minutes' limit, or his congregation would catch +their death of cold. 'Dearly beloved brethren, the words of my text are +illustrated by the house in which we are assembled.'" His voice filled +the Nave, and reverberated down the aisles. "'Here you have the real +thing, built by the Master Builder, Nature, for the use of the Cave Man, +and preserved for all time. How wonderful are the works of Creation, how +exquisite the details. You have heard of the Doric, the Ionic, and the +Corinthian columns, and of the beauties of Greek architecture, but +compare these white, symmetrical piers, raised in one solid piece, +without join or crevice. Observe yonder alabaster gallery where the +organ swells its harmonious tones; observe the vestry, where the +preacher dons his sacerdotal garb--they are perfect. But did I hear a +lady sneeze? Alas! Nature forgot the hot-air pipes; the Cathedral, I +admit, strikes a little chilly. Therefore I dismiss you, my brethren, +lest you should catch pleurisy, or go into galloping consumption.'" + +He finished with a laugh, and then passed into the small entrance-cave, +which he denominated facetiously the Church Porch. Here he blew out his +candle, which he placed on a rock, and emerged from his hiding-place. + +He had burst from the restful, if cold, comfort of his cave upon the +warring elements. Peal after peal of thunder rolled along the wooded +slopes of the rugged range; fierce flashes of lightning pierced the +gloom of the dark valley below, and from the black thunder-cloud +overhead there poured a torrent of rain which made the goldsmith think +of the Deluge. + +"Ha!" he exclaimed, as he stood in the entrance of his damp den, "there +are worse places than my cave after all. But what I want is firewood. +Lord! that flash almost blinded me. +Rumble--grumble--tumble--crash--bang! Go it; never mind _me_. You aren't +frightening me worth tuppence. I rather like a little electricity and +_aqua pura_." In answer there was a dazzling flash, followed by a +terrific clap of thunder which seemed to burst almost above Benjamin's +head. "All right, if you insist--I'll go. Sorry I obtruded ... Good +afternoon." + +He retreated into the cave, took up his candle, which he relighted, +saying to himself, "I'll go and explore that passage behind the Organ +Loft, and see if it leads to the outer world. In case I get shut in +here, like a rat in a hole, it's just as well for me to know my burrow +thoroughly." + +Groping his way up a slippery ascent where his feet continually stumbled +over the uneven surface of the encrusted floor, he climbed to the Organ +Loft, where, screened behind a delicate, white tracery which hung from +roof to floor of the gallery and assumed the shape of an organ, pipes +and panels complete, he could see his candle's flame shoot long fingers +of light into the vast Nave below. + +However, he spent but little time in contemplation of the weird scene, +but turning sharply to the right he followed a narrow, winding passage +which led into the heart of the limestone mountain. His progress was +both slow and difficult, for the encrusting carbonate had, in many +places, all but filled up the passage, and, in many others, the floor +was so broken as to make it almost impossible for him to press onwards. +Now he would squeeze himself between the converging sides of the +passage, now he would crawl on hands and knees through a hole which +would barely receive his shoulders; and thus, sweating, panting, +bruised, and even bleeding where his hands and arms had been grazed by +rasping and projecting rocks, he at length sat down to rest in a place +where the tunnel broadened into a small chamber. How far he had pushed +his way into the bowels of the earth he could not tell, neither was he +thoughtful of the distance. What he was looking and hoping for, was a +gleam of light ahead, but whenever he blew out his candle the inky +blackness was so intense as to be painful to his eyes. + +"My God! Supposing a man got in here, and couldn't get back? Suppose I +got stuck between two rocks?--I'd have to stop here till I grew thin +enough to squeeze out." + +Quickly he re-lit his candle. + +"That's better," he exclaimed. "There is after all some company in a +lighted candle. We'll now go on; we'll press forward; we'll see whither +this intricate path leadeth. 'Vorwarts' is the word: no turning back +till the goal is reached." + +He crept through a low aperture, and with difficulty he rose to his +feet; a few steps further on he stumbled; the candle fell from his hand, +and dropped, and dropped, and dropped, in fact he never heard it reach +the bottom. + +Feeling in his pocket for his matches as he lay prone, he struck a +light, and held the burning taper beyond him as far as he could reach. +All that he saw was a dark and horrible abyss. He struck another match +with the same result. He seized a piece of loose rock, rolled it over +the edge, and waited for the sound of its lodgment at the bottom. He +heard it bumping as it fell, but its falling seemed interminable, till +at length the sound of its passage to the nether regions died away in +sheer depth. + +Tresco drew a long breath. + +"Never," he said, "never, in the course of his two score years and ten +has Benjamin been so near Hades. The best thing he can do is to 'git,' +deliberately and with circumspection. And the candle has gone: happy +candle to preserve the life of such a man as B.T." + +Slowly and with the utmost caution he crept backwards from the horrible +pit. But his supply of matches was scanty, and often he bumped his head +against the ceiling, and often he tripped and fell, till before long +there was not a part of his portly person that was free from pain. Yet +still he struggled on, for he realised that his life depended on his +extricating himself from the terrible labyrinth in which he was +entangled. He struck match after match, till his stock was expended, +and then, panting, weary, and sore, he clenched his teeth and battled +onward. It seemed miles to the end of the passage. He imagined that +he had got into some new tunnel, the opening of which he had passed +unwittingly when he crept into the trap; and to the natural dread of his +situation was added the horrible fear that he was lost in the bowels of +the earth. + +And then, when his strength and nerve had all but given out, came +deliverance. Before him he saw a faint glimmer of light, which grew +brighter and brighter as he pressed painfully forward, and ere he knew +that he was safe he found himself in the gallery behind the organ loft. + +But what was the brilliant light that filled the nave of the Cathedral? +What was the sound he heard? It was the sound of men's voices. + +Sitting round a fire, whose red flames illumined the white walls of the +grotto, were four men, who talked loudly as they dried their wet +garments before the blaze. + +Tresco crept to the trellis-work of the gallery, and peered down upon +the scene. In the shifting light which the unsteady flames threw across +the great cave below he could hardly distinguish one man from another, +except where facing the ruddy light the features of this intruder or of +that reflected the fierce glow. + +"I had to chiv the fat bloke, an' he squealed like a pig when I jabbed +'im." The speaker was sitting cross-legged with his back towards Tresco, +and was wiping the blade of a big butcher's knife. + +"My man died coughing," said another. "'E coughed as 'e sat like a +trussed fowl, an' when I 'squeezed' 'im, 'e just give one larst little +cough an' pegged out quite pleasant, like droppin' orf to sleep." + +"It's been a bloody mess," remarked a third speaker. "There's Garstang +there, a mass of blood all over his shirt, and there's the two men that +was shot; any'ow you like to look at it, it's an unworkmanlike job. All +four of 'em should ha' been 'squeezed'--bullets make reports and blood's +messy." + +"Garn! Whatyer givin' us, Dolly?" said the youngest member of the gang. +"Didn't you shoot your own man--an' on the track, too? I don't see what +you've got to growl at. We've got the gold--what more do you want?" + +"I shot the unfortunate man, your Honour, firstly because he was a +constable, and secondly because he was givin' trouble, your Honour. But +I prefer to do these things professionally." Dolphin's mock seriousness +tickled his hearers, and they laughed. "But, joking apart," he said, +"after all the experience we've had, to go and turn that mountain-side +into a butcher's shambles is nothin' short of disgraceful. They all +ought to've been 'squeezed,' an' have died as quiet as mice, without a +drop of blood on 'em." + +"All food for worms; all lying in the howling wilderness, where they'll +stop till kingdom come. What's the use of worrying? Hand over that bag +of gold, Garstang, an' let's have a look. I've got an awful weakness for +nuggets." + +A blanket was spread on the floor of the cavern, and upon this were +heaped bank-notes and sovereigns and silver that glittered in the +fire-light. + +The four men gathered round, and the leader of the gang divided the +money into four lots. + +"Here's some of the gold." The shrill-voiced young man handed a small +but heavy bag to Dolphin. "There's stacks more." + +"One thing at a time, William," said the leader. "First, we'll divide +the money, then the gold, which won't be so easy, as we've got no +scales. Here, take your cash, and count it. I make it L157 7s. apiece." +From a heap of bundles which lay a few yards off he drew forward a +tent-fly, and then he carried into the light of the fire a number of +small but heavy bags, one by one, and placed them on the canvas. + +"My lot's only L147 7s.," said a deep and husky voice. + +"You must ha' made a mistake, Garstang," said Dolphin. "Count it again." + +While the hulking, wry-faced robber bent to the task, the leader began +to empty the contents of the bags upon the tent-fly. + +Peering through the tracery of the Organ Gallery, Tresco looked down +upon the scene with wonder and something akin to envy. There, on the +white piece of folded canvas, he could see dull yellow heaps, which, +even in the uncertain light of the fire, he recognised as gold. + +At first, half-stunned by the presence of the strangers, he was at a +loss to determine their character, but from their conversation and the +display of such ill-gotten riches, he quickly grasped the fact that they +were greater criminals than himself. He saw their firearms lying about; +he heard their disjointed talk, interlarded with hilarious oaths; he saw +them stooping over the heaps of gold, and to his astonished senses it +was plain that a robbery on a gigantic scale had been committed. + +On one side of the fire the wet and steaming garments of the murderers +were hung on convenient stalagmites to dry; upon the other side of the +red blaze the four men, dressed in strange motley, gleaned from their +"swags," wrangled over the division of the plunder. + +"There's only a hundred-an'-forty-seven quid in my lot, I tell yer!" +Garstang's rasping voice could be plainly heard above the others. "Count +it yerself." + +"Count it, Dolly, an' shut his crooked mouth." + +"I'll take his word for it," said the leader. "We can make it good to +you, Garstang, when we get to town and sell some gold. Now listen, all +of you. I'm going to divide the biggest haul we've ever made, or are +likely to make." + +"Listen, blokes," interrupted Sweet William, with an oath. "Give the +boss your attention, _if_ you please." + +Tresco glued his eye tighter to the aperture through which he peered. +There lay the dull, yellow gold--if only he could but scare the robbers +away, the prize would be his own. He rose on one knee to get a better +view, but as he did so his toe dislodged a loose piece of stone, which +tumbled noisily down the gallery steps, the sound of its falling +re-echoing through the spacious cavern. + +In a moment the robbers were thrown into a state of perturbation. +Seizing their arms, they glanced wildly around, and stood on their +defence. + +But all was hushed and still. + +"Go forward, Garstang, and search the cave," ordered the leader in a +voice of authority. + +With a firebrand in one hand and a revolver in the other, the big, burly +man crept forward; his mates alert to fire over him at any object he +might discover. His search was haphazard, and his feet were naturally +uncertain among the debris which had accumulated on the floor of the +cavern. + +Skirting the grotto's edge, he examined the inky shadows that lay behind +pillar and projection, till he came to the stairs which led to the Organ +Gallery. + +Tresco, filled with an unspeakable dread, contemplated a retreat down +the passage he had lately explored, where he might be driven by the +murderers over the abyssmal depth which he had failed to fathom, when +suddenly the man with the torch tripped, fell, and the flame of his +firebrand disappeared in a shower of sparks. With an oath the prostrate +man gathered up his bruised limbs, and by the aid of the flickering +fire-light he groped his way back to his fellows, but not before he had +placed his ear to the damp floor and had listened for the sound of +intruders. + +"There's nobody," he said, when he reached his mates. "The row was only +a blanky spike that fell from the roof an' broke itself. The ground's +covered with 'em." + +"Come on, then," said Sweet William; "let's finish our business." + +They gathered again round the treasure. + +"You see, I have arranged it in two heaps," said Dolphin--"nuggets in +one, gold-dust in the other. I propose to measure out the dust first." + +Each man had provided himself with one of the leather bags which had +originally held the gold, and their leader filled a pint pannikin with +gold-dust. "That's one," he said, lifting it heavily. "That's for you, +old crooked chops." And he emptied the measure into Garstang's bag. + +"Two." He emptied a pannikinful of gold into Carnac's bag. + +"Three." Sweet William received a like measure. + +"Four." Dolphin helped himself. + +"That makes four pints of gold," he said. "What d'you say, mates, will +she go round another turn?" + +"No," said Carnac, "try a half-pint all round." + +Dolphin fetched a smaller pannikin from the swags, and the division of +the gold continued. + +To share the nuggets equally was a difficult matter, and a good deal of +wrangling took place in consequence. This, however, was quieted by the +simple expedient of tossing a coin for disputed pieces of gold. The +biggest nuggets being thus disposed of, the smaller ones were measured +in the half-pint pot, till at length the envious eyes of the goldsmith +saw the last measureful disappear into its owner's bag. + +This exceedingly delicate matter being settled, the bushrangers sat +round the fire, drank tea which they brewed in a black "billy," +lit their pipes, and--as is invariably the case with a gang of +thieves--enacted again the awful drama in which they had lately +played their horrible parts. + +Shivering on the damp floor of the dripping gallery, Tresco strained his +ears to hear every diabolical detail of the conversation. + +"Garstang, old man, Dolly's right; you'd better see to that shirt of +yours. It looks as if you'd killed a pig in it." + +"The chap I chiv'd was as fat as a pig, anyway," said the +crooked-mouthed murderer, as he attempted to rub out the guilty stains +with a dirty piece of rag. "The blood spurted all over me as soon as I +pulled out the knife." + +"Take it off, man; it looks as bad as a slaughterman's," said the leader +of the gang. "Throw it in the fire." + +"I consider I did my man beautifully," said Carnac. "I told him to say +his prayers, and while he knelt I just shot him behind the ear. Now, I +call that a very pretty method of dying--no struggling, no fuss, no +argument, simply a quick departure in an odour of sanctity." And the +gentlemanly murderer laughed quietly and contentedly. + +"The blanky banker went ratty when he saw my gun," said Sweet William. +"I had to fair yank 'im through the supple-jacks an' lawyers. It was +something horrid--it made my arm ache. At larst I says, 'Look 'ere, are +you goin' to walk, or am I to shoot you?' An' he kept on sayin', 'All +the gold is on the horse; don't take it all, please,' till I felt sick. +'Up you git,' I says, an' I dragged 'im through the bush, and then +bli'me if 'e didn't sit down an' cough an' cry. Such dam' foolishness +made me lose patience. I just 'squeezed' 'im where he sat." + +"My bloke was the devil to die," said Garstang. "First I shot him one +way, then I shot him another; an' at larst I had to chiv 'im with the +knife, though it was the larst thing I wanted to do." + +"They should all have been 'squeezed,'" said Dolphin, "and nothing's +easier if you've got the knack--noiseless, bloodless, traceless, the +only scientific way of doin' the work." + +"All of which you've said before, Dolly." Sweet William rose and groped +his way to the mouth of the cave. + +"It's the blamed horses that bother me," said Carnac. "We left their +carcases too near the track. We should have taken them a mile or more +along, and have shoved them over a precipice, down which they might have +fallen by accident in the storm. As it is, they'll be putrid in a +fortnight, and make the track impassable." + +"By which time," said Dolphin, "we shall be out of reach." + +"What about the Bank?" Garstang asked the question almost insolently. "I +thought you 'ad such wonderful plans of yer own." + +"The thing's easy enough," retorted Dolphin, "but the question is +whether it's worth while. We've made a haul to be proud of; never did +men have a better streak o' luck. We've taken hundreds of ounces from a +strong escort, which we stopped at the right place, just in the right +way, so that they couldn't so much as fire a shot. It would be a crying +shame to spoil such a job by bein' trapped over a paltry wooden Bank." + +"Trapped be sugared!" said Garstang. + +"The inference 'll be"--Sweet William had returned from the cave's +mouth, and took up the conversation where he left it--"everybody +with any sense'll say the escort an' the banker made orf with the +gold--nothin' but blood'ounds could ever find their bodies." + +"It's bin a wonderful time," said Dolphin, "but we can't expect such +luck to foller us around like a poodle-dog." + +"I'm for havin' a slap at the Bank, anyway," growled Garstang. + +"Imagine the effect upon the public mind--the robbery of an escort and a +bank, both in one week!" This was how the gentlemanly Carnac regarded +the question. "It'd be a record. We'd make a name that wouldn't easily +be forgotten. _I'm_ for trying." + +"Well, it's stopped raining, blokes," said Sweet William, "but outside +it's dark enough to please an owl. If we want to get into Timber Town +without bein' seen, now's the time to start." So saying, he picked up +his "swag," which he hitched upon his back. + +The other men rose, one by one, and shouldered their packs, in which +each man carried his gold. + +With much lumbering, stumbling, and swearing, the murderers slowly +departed, groping their way to the mouth of the cave by the light of the +fire, which they left burning. + +Tresco waited till the last sound of their voices had died away, then he +stretched his cramped, benumbed limbs, heaved a deep sigh of relief, and +rose to his feet. + +"My God, what monsters!" He spoke under his breath, for fear that even +the walls should hear him. "If they had found me they'd have thought as +little of cutting my throat as of killing a mosquito. If ever I thanked +God in my life--well, well--every nerve of me is trembling. That's the +reaction. I must warm myself, and have a bite of food." + +After carefully scattering the murderers' fire, he groped his way to his +inner cell, and there he made his best endeavours to restore his +equanimity with warmth, food, and drink. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +The Perturbations of the Bank Manager. + + +The windows of the Kangaroo Bank were ablaze with light, although the +town clock had struck eleven. It was the dolorous hour when the landlord +of The Lucky Digger, obliged by relentless law, reluctantly turned into +the street the topers and diggers who filled his bar. + +Bare-headed, the nails of his right hand picking nervously at the +fingers of his left, the manager of the Bank emerged from a side-door. +He glanced up the dark street towards the great mountains which loomed +darkly in the Cimmerian gloom. + +"Dear me, dear me," murmured he to himself, "he is very late. What can +have kept him?" He glanced down the street, and saw the small crowd +wending its way from the hostelry. "It was really a most dreadful storm, +the most dreadful thunderstorm I ever remember." His eye marked where +the light from the expansive windows of the Bank illumined the wet +asphalt pavement. "Landslips frequently occur on newly made tracks, +especially after heavy rain. It's a great risk, a grave risk, this +transporting of gold from one place to another." + +"'Evenin', boss. Just a little cheque for twenty quid. I'll take it in +notes." + +The men from The Lucky Digger had paused before the brilliantly lighted +building. + +"Give him a chance.... Let him explain.... Carn't you see there's a run +on the Bank." + +"Looks bad.... Clerks in the street.... All lighted up at this time o' +night.... No money left." + +"Say, boss, have they bin an' collared the big safe? Do you want +assistance?" + +The Manager turned to take refuge in the Bank, but his tormentors were +relentless. + +"Hold on, mate--you're in trouble. Confide in us. If the books won't +balance, what matter? Don't let that disturb your peace of mind. Come +and have a drink.... Take a hand at poker.... First tent over the +bridge, right-hand side." + +"It's no go, boys. He's narked because he knows we want an overdraft. +Let 'im go and count his cash." + +The Manager pulled himself free from the roisterers and escaped into the +Bank by the side door, and the diggers continued noisily on their way. + +The lights of the Bank suddenly went out, and the Manager, after +carefully locking the door behind him, crossed over the street to the +livery stables, where a light burned during the greater part of the +night. In a little box of a room, where harness hung on all the walls, +there reclined on a bare and dusty couch a red-faced man, whose hair +looked as if it had been closely cropped with a pair of horse-clippers. +When he caught sight of the banker, he sat up and exclaimed, "Good God, +Mr. Tomkinson! Ain't you in bed?" + +"It's this gold-escort, Manning--it was due at six o'clock." + +"Look here." The stable-keeper rose from his seat, placed his hand +lovingly on a trace which hung limply on the wall. "Don't I run the +coach to Beaver Town?--and I guess a coach is a more ticklish thing to +run than a gold-escort. Lord bless your soul, isn't every coach supposed +to arrive before dark? But they don't. 'The road was slippy with +frost--I had to come along easy,' the driver'll say. Or it'll be, 'I +got stuck up by a fresh in the Brown River.' That's it. I know. But they +always arrive, sometime or other. I'll bet you a fiver--one of your own, +if you like--that the rivers are in flood, and your people can't get +across. Same with the Beaver Town coach. She was due at six o'clock, +and here've I been drowsing like a more-pork on this couch, when I might +have been in bed. An' to bed I go. If she comes in to-night, the driver +can darn well stable the 'orses himself. Good night." + +This was a view of the question that had not occurred to Mr. Tomkinson, +but he felt he must confer with the Sergeant of Police. + +The lock-up was situated in a by-street not far from the centre of the +town. The Sergeant was sitting at a desk, and reading the entries in a +big book. His peaked shako lay in front of him, and he smoked a cigar as +he pored over his book. + +He said nothing, he barely moved, when the banker entered; but his frank +face, in which a pair of blue eyes stood well apart, lighted up with +interest and attention as Mr. Tomkinson told his tale. When the +narrative was ended, he said quietly, "Yes, they may be weather-bound. +Did you have a clear understanding that the gold was to be brought in +to-day?" + +"It was perfectly understood." + +"How much gold did you say there was?" + +"From fifteen to twenty thousand pounds' worth--it depends on how much +the agent has bought." + +"A lot of money, sir; quite a nice little fortune. It must be seen to. +I'll tell you what I will do. Two mounted constables shall go out at +daylight, and I guarantee that if the escort is to be found, _they_ will +find it." + +"Thank you," said Tomkinson. "I think it ought to be done. You will send +them out first thing in the morning? Thank you. Good night." + +As the banker turned to go, the Sergeant rose. + +"Wait a moment," he said. "I'll come with you." + +They walked contemplatively side by side till they reached the main +street, where a horseman stood, hammering at Manning's stable-gate. + +"Nobody in?" said the Sergeant. "You had better walk inside, and put the +horse up yourself." + +"I happen to know that the owner has gone to bed," said Tomkinson. + +The horseman passed through the gateway, and was about to lead his +sweating mount into the stables, when the Sergeant stopped him. + +"Which way have you come to-day?" he asked. + +"From Bush Robin Creek," replied the traveller. + +"You have ridden right through since morning?" + +"Yes. Why not?" + +"Did you overtake some men with a pack-horse?" + +"No. I passed Mr. Scarlett, after the thunderstorm came on. That was on +the other side of the ranges." + +"How did you find the rivers? Fordable?" + +"They were all right, except that on this side of the range they had +begun to rise." + +"Perhaps the men we are expecting," said the nervous banker, "took +shelter in the bush when the storm came on. You may have passed without +seeing them." + +"Who are the parties you are expecting?" asked the traveller. + +"Mr. Zahn, the agent of the Kangaroo Bank, was on the road to-day with a +considerable quantity of gold," replied the Sergeant. + +"You mean the gold-escort," said the traveller. "It left about three +hours before I did." + +"Do you know Mr. Zahn?" asked the Sergeant. + +"I do. I've sold gold to him." + +"I'll take your name, if you please," said the Sergeant, producing his +pocket-book. + +"Rooker, Thomas Samuel Rooker," said the traveller. + +"Where are you to be found?" + +"At The Lucky Digger." + +"Thank you," said the Sergeant, as he closed his book with a snap and +put it in his pocket. "Good night." + +"Good night," said the traveller, as he led his horse into the stable. +"If I can be of any use, send for me in the morning." + +"It's pretty certain that this man never saw them," said the Sergeant, +"therefore they were not on the road when he passed them. They must have +been, as you say, in the bush. There is plenty of hope yet, sir, but I +should advise you to get up pretty early to-morrow morning, if you want +to see my mounted men start. Good night." + +With a gloomy response, Mr. Tomkinson turned his steps towards the Bank, +there to toss on a sleepless bed till morning. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +The Quietude of Timber Town Is Disturbed. + + +The crowd which had gathered in front of the verandah of the Post Office +of Timber Town was made up, as is not uncommon with crowds, of all sorts +and conditions of men. There were diggers dressed in the rough clothes +suitable to their calling and broad-brimmed felt hats; tradesmen, fat +with soft living, and dressed each according to his taste; farmers, in +ready-made store-clothes and straw hats; women, neatly, if plainly, +dressed as suited the early hour of the day; a few gaily-dressed girls, +and a multitude of boys. + +Nailed to the wooden wall of the building was a poster, printed with big +head-lines, upon which the interest of all present was centred. + + + NOTICE. + + FIVE HUNDRED POUNDS REWARD!!! + + WHEREAS persons of the names of ISAAC ZAHN, PETER + HEAFY, WILLIAM JOHNSON, and JAMES KETTLE + have mysteriously disappeared; AND WHEREAS it is supposed + that they have been murdered on the road between + Bush Robin Creek and Timber Town; AND WHEREAS, + further, they had in their custody at the time a considerable + quantity of gold, the property of the Kangaroo Bank; + + THIS IS TO NOTIFY that should those persons, or any of + them, have been murdered, a reward of FIVE HUNDRED + POUNDS (L500) will be given to any person who shall give + information that will lead to the conviction of the murderers; + AND A LIKE REWARD will be given to any person who + shall give such information as shall lead to the restoration + of the stolen gold to its lawful owners. + + (Signed) WILLIAM TOMKIN TOMKINSON, + Manager, + Kangaroo Bank, + Timber Town. + +"Isaac Zahn? He was the gold-buying clerk. I knew 'im well. An' if you +ask me, I think I know who put 'im away." + +"You're right, John. D'you call to mind that long-legged toff at The +Lucky Digger?" + +"I do. 'E caught Zahn a lick under the jaw, an' kicked 'im into the +street. I seen 'im do it." + +"That's the bloke." + +"Hi! Higgins. Here, old man. D'you want five hundred pounds?" + +"I ain't partic'lar, George--I don't know the man's name." + +"But you saw that bit of a scrap in The Lucky Digger, between one of +these parties as is murdered and the toff from the Old Country." + +"I was in the bar." + +"Well, there was very bad blood between them--you see that? And I heard +the toff tell Zahn that the next time 'e saw 'im he'd about stiffen 'im. +I heard it, or words to that effect. Now, I want you to bear witness +that what I say is true." + +"Yes, yes, I remember the time. You mean Mr. Scarlett, the man who +discovered the field." + +"There's wheels within wheels, my boy. They were rivals for the same +girl. She jilted young Zahn when this new man took up the running. Bad +blood, very bad blood, indeed." + +"But is he dead? Has there been a murder at all? Collusion, sir, +collusion. Suppose the escort quietly appropriated the gold and effaced +themselves, they'd be rich men for life, sir." + +"You're right, Mr. Ferrars. Until the bodies are found, sir, there is no +reason to believe there has been murder." + +At this moment the local bellman appeared on the scene, and stopped +conversation with the din of his bell. Subsequently, after the manner of +his kind, and in a thin nasal voice, he proclaimed as follows:--"Five +hundred pound reward--Five hundred pound reward.--It being +believed--that a foul murder has been committed--on the persons +of--Isaac Zahn, Peter Heafy, William Johnson, James Kettle--citizens of +Timber Town--a search-party will be formed--under the leadership of Mr. +Charles Caxton--volunteers will be enrolled at the Town Hall--a large +reward being offered--for the apprehension of the murderers--Five +hundred pound--Five hundred pound!" + +He then tucked his bell under his arm and walked off, just as +unconcernedly as if he were advertising an auction-sale. + +By this time a crowd of two or three hundred people had assembled. A +chair was brought from The Lucky Digger, and upon this a stout man +clambered to address the people. But what with his vehemence and +gesticulations, and what with the smallness of his platform, he stepped +to the ground several times in the course of his speech; therefore a +lorry, a four-wheeled vehicle not unlike a tea-tray upon four wheels, +was brought, and while the orator held forth effusively from his new +rostrum, the patient horse stood between the shafts, with drooping head. + +This pompous person was succeeded by a tall, upright man, with the +bearing of a Viking and the voice of a clarion. His speech was short and +to the point. If he had to go alone, he would search for the missing +men; but he asked for help. "I am a surveyor," he said. "I knew none of +these men who are lost or murdered, but I appeal to those of you who are +diggers to come forward and help. I appeal to the townsfolk who knew +young Zahn to rally round me in searching for their friend. I appeal +for funds, since the work cannot be done without expense; and at the +conclusion of this meeting I shall enrol volunteers in the Town Hall." + +He stood down, and Mr. Crewe rose to address the crowd, which had now +assumed such proportions that it stretched from pavement to pavement of +the broad street. All the shops were closed, and people were flocking +from far and wide to the centre of the town. + +"Men of Timber Town," said Mr. Crewe, "I'm not so young as I was, or I +would be the first to go in search of these missing men. My days as a +bushman are over, I fear; but I shall have much pleasure in giving L20 +to the expenses of the search-party. All I ask is that there be no more +talking, but prompt action. These men may be tied to trees in the bush; +they may be starving to death while we talk here. Therefore let us unite +in helping the searchers to get away without delay." + +A movement was now made towards the Town Hall, and while the volunteers +of the search-party were being enrolled two committees of citizens were +being formed in the Town Clerk's office--the one to finance, and the +other to equip, the expedition. + +While these things were going forward, there stood apart from the crowd +four men, who conversed in low voices. + +"It's about time, mates, we got a bend on." + +"Dolly, you make me tired. I ask you, was there ever such a chance. All +the traps in the town will be searching for these unfortunate missin' +men. We'll have things all our own way, an' you ask us to 'git.'" + +"'Strewth, Garstang, you're a glutton. S'far's I'm concerned, I've got +as much as I can carry. I don't want no more." + +The four comrades in crime had completely changed their appearance. They +were dressed in new, ready-made suits, and wore brand-new hats, besides +which they had shaved their faces in such a manner as to make them +hardly recognisable. + +Dolphin, who, besides parting with his luxuriant whiskers and moustache, +had shaved off his eyebrows, remarked, with the air of a man in deep +thought, "But there's no steamer leaving port for two days--I forgot +that. It seems we'll have to stay that long, at any rate." + +"And I can't bear bein' idle--it distresses me," said Sweet William. + +"This'll be the last place where they'll look for us," remarked Carnac. +"You take it from me, they'll search the diggings first." + +"When they've found the unfortunate men, they'll be rampin' mad to catch +the perpetrators." This from Dolphin. + +A rough, bluff, good-natured digger pushed his way into the middle of +the group. "Come on, mates," he said; "put your names down for a fiver +each. It's got to be done." And seizing Garstang and Sweet William, he +pulled them towards the Town Hall. + +"G'arn! Let go!" snarled Garstang. + +"Whatyer givin' us?" exclaimed William, as she shook himself free. "The +bloke's fair ratty." + +"Here! Hi!" Dolphin called to the enthusiastic stranger. "What's all +this about missing men? What's all the fuss about?--as like as not the +men are gone prospecting in the bush." + +"A gold-buyer with 5000 oz. of gold doesn't go prospecting," replied the +digger. "Come and read the notice, man." + +The four murderers lounged towards the Post Office, and coolly read the +Bank Manager's placard. + +"They've got lost, that's about the size of it," said Garstang. + +"Why all this bobbery should be made over a few missin' men, beats me," +sneered Dolphin. + +"Whenever there's a 'rush' in Australia, there's dozens of men git +lost," said Sweet William, "but nobody takes any notice--it's the +ordinary thing." + +"But there's gold to the value of L20,000 gone too," said the +enthusiastic stranger. "Wouldn't you take notice of _that_?" + +"It'll turn up," said Carnac. "They must have lost their way in the +thunderstorm. But you may bet they're well supplied with tucker. Hang +it all, they might come into town any minute, and what fools we'd look +then." + +"P'r'aps their pack-horse got frightened at the lightning and fell over +a precipice. It might, easy." This was William's brilliant suggestion. + +"An' the men are humpin' the gold into town theirselves," said Garstang. +"There ain't any occasion to worry, that I can see. None at all, none at +all. Come an' have a drink, mate. I'll shout for the crowd." + +The five men strolled towards The Lucky Digger, through the door of +which they passed into a crowded bar, where, amid excited, loud-voiced +diggers who were expressing their views concerning the gold-escort's +disappearance, the four murderers were the only quiet and collected +individuals. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +The Gold League Washes Up. + + +The amalgamated "claims," worked upon an economical and extensive scale, +had promised from the outset to render enormous returns to the members +of the Gold League. + +Throughout the canvas town which had sprung up on the diggings, the news +that the "toffs" were to divide their profits had created the widest +interest, and in every calico shanty and in every six-by-eight tent the +organising genius of the "field," Mr. Jack Scarlett, was the subject of +conversation. + +Such topsy-turvy habitations as the stores and dwellings of Canvas Town +never were seen. The main street, if the thoroughfare where all the +business of the mushroom township was transacted could be dignified with +such a name, was a snare to the pedestrian and an impossibility to +vehicles, which, however, were as yet unknown on the "field." + +The "Cafe de Paris" possessed no windows in its canvas walls, and its +solitary chimney was an erection of corrugated iron, surmounted by a tin +chimney-pot. "The Golden Reef," where spirituous liquors were to be had +at exorbitant prices, was of a more palatial character, as it had a +front of painted wood, in which there hung a real door furnished with a +lock, though the sides of the building were formed of rough logs, taken +in their natural state from the "bush." The calico structure which bore +in large stencilled letters the name of The Kangaroo Bank, was evidently +closed during the absence of the Manager, for, pinned to the cotton of +the front wall, was a piece of paper, on which was written in pencil +the following notice:--"During the temporary absence of the Manager, +customers of the Bank are requested to leave their gold with Mr. +Figgiss, of the Imperial Dining Rooms, whose receipts will be duly +acknowledged by the Bank. Isaac Zahn, Manager." Upon reading the notice, +would-be customers of the wealthy institution had only to turn round in +order to see Mr. Figgiss himself standing in the door of his place of +business. He was a tall, red-bearded, pugnacious-looking man, with an +expansive, hairy chest, which was visible beneath the unbuttoned front +of his Crimean shirt. The Imperial Dining Rooms, if not spacious, were +yet remarkable, for upon their calico sides it was announced in letters +of rainbow tints that curries and stews were always ready, that grilled +steaks and chops were to be had on Tuesdays and Fridays, and roast pork +and "duff" on Sundays. + +But further along the street, where tree-stumps still remained and the +pedestrian traversed water-worn ruts which reached to his knee, the true +glory of Canvas Town stood upon a small elevation, overlooking the +river. This was the office of the Timber Town Gold League. It was felt +by every digger on the "field" that here was a structure which should +serve as a model. Its sides were made of heavy slabs of wood, which bore +marks of the adze and axe; its floor, raised some four feet from the +ground, was of sawn planks--unheard-of luxury--and in the cellars below +were stored the goods of the affluent company. Approaching the door by a +short flight of steps, admittance was gained to a set of small offices, +beyond which lay a spacious room, which, at the time when the reader is +ushered into it, is filled with bearded men dressed in corduroy, or blue +dungaree, copper-fastened, trousers and flannel shirts; men with mud on +their boots and on their clothes, and an air of ruffianism pervading +them generally. And yet this is the Timber Town Gold League, the +aristocratic members of which are assembled for the purpose of dividing +the proceeds of their first "wash-up." + +On an upturned whisky-case, before a big table composed of boards +roughly nailed together and resting on trestles, sits the Manager of the +League, Mr. Jack Scarlett, and before him lie the proceeds of the +"wash-up." + +The room is full of tobacco-smoke, and the hubbub of many voices drowns +the thin voice of the League's Secretary, who sits beside the Manager +and calls for silence. + +But Jack is on his feet and, above the many voices, roars, "Order!" + +"Quiet." + +"Sit down." + +"Stop that row." + +"Order for the boss of the League." + +Before long all is still, and the lucky owners of the gold which lies in +bags upon the table, listen eagerly for the announcement of the returns. + +"Gentlemen,"--Scarlett's face wears a pleasant smile, which betokens +a pleasant duty--"as some of you are aware, the result of our first +wash-up is a record for the colony. It totals 18,000 oz., and this, at +the current price of Bush Robin gold--which I ascertained in Timber Town +during my last visit--gives us a return of L69,750." + +Here Jack is interrupted by tremendous cheering. + +"Of this sum," he continues, when he can get a hearing, "your Committee +suggests the setting aside, for the payment of liabilities and current +expenses, the sum of L9750, which leaves L60,000 to be divided amongst +the members of the League." + +Upon this announcement being made, an uproar ensues, an uproar of +unrestrained jubilation which shakes the shingle roof, and the noise of +which reaches far down the street of Canvas Town and across the flats, +where clay-stained diggers pause amid their dirt-heaps to remark in +lurid language that the toffs are having "an almighty spree over their +blanky wash-up." + +"I rise to make a propothition," says a long, thin, young Gold Leaguer, +with a yellow beard and a slight lisp. "I rise to suggest that we send +down to Reiley's for all hith bottled beer, and drink the health of our +noble selves." + +The motion is seconded by every man in the room rising to his feet and +cheering. + +Six stalwart Leaguers immediately go to wait upon the proprietor of The +Golden Reef, and whilst they are transacting their business their mates +sing songs, the choruses of which float through the open windows over +the adjacent country. The dirt-stained owners of the Hatters' Folly +claim hear the members of the League asking to be "wrapped up in an old +stable jacket," and those working in the Four Brothers' claim learn the +truth about "the place where the old horse died." + +At length the forage-party arrives with the liquor, and there follows +the unholy sound of the drawing of corks. + +By this time all Canvas Town has learnt what business is going forward +in "the Toffs' Shanty," and from both sides of the river the diggers +begin to assemble in anticipation of a "spree." Across the scarred, +disfigured valley, over the mullock-heaps, from every calico tent, from +out of every shaft, from the edge of the dark forest itself, bearded +men, toil-stained but smiling, bent on festivity, collect in Canvas +Town's one ramshackle street. + +Between the calico shanties and along the miry, uneven ways, men stand +in groups, their conversation all of the luck of "the toffs." But around +the Office of the Gold League the crowd is greatest, and the cheers of +the members are echoed by the diggers outside. + +Bill the Prospector and Moonlight are on guard at the door, for though +they have no interest in the League's claims, as owners of the two +richest patches on the field they stand hand-in-glove with the leaders +of that strong combination. Inside, Scarlett has risen to his feet, amid +prolonged cheering. + +"We have not decided yet, gentlemen," he says, "whether we shall take +our dividends in gold or in cheques; and this causes me to allude to +a most disagreeable matter. It is well known that the agent of the +Kangaroo Bank has been robbed of a considerable amount of gold and +perhaps murdered, on his way between this field and Timber Town." + +Suddenly the room is filled with groans, deep and sepulchral, which are +immediately repeated by the growing crowd outside. + +"Evidently," continues Jack, "it is not safe for a man to travel with +gold on his person; I therefore wish to propose that payments be made by +cheque, and that all members not absolutely needed on the claims form +themselves into an escort to convey the gold to Timber Town. And when we +adjourn, I suggest that a meeting of all diggers on the field be called +for the purpose of forming a vigilance committee, for the detection and +suppression of crime on the diggings." + +He sits down amid renewed cheering. This has barely subsided and the +long, thin young man, who appears to be a person of importance in the +League, has risen to speak, when a considerable disturbance occurs +outside. + +During Scarlett's speech four mounted constables have wended their way +through the groups of diggers standing in the street. They dismount in +front of the League's Office, and ascend the steps, at the top of which +they come into violent altercation with Moonlight and the Prospector. +These are immediately ordered in the Queen's name to stand aside, and +the four blue-coated men walk into the meeting. + +The tall, thin, young man, catching sight of the intruders, pauses +in his speech, and says, "What the deyvil!" but the constables walk +straight to the improvised table, and their leader, laying his hand on +Scarlett's shoulder, say, "John Richard Scarlett, you are charged with +the murder of Isaac Zahn. I arrest you in the Queen's name." + +For half a minute there rests on the assembly a silence that can be +felt. Then there bursts a roar of indignation from fifty throats. In a +moment the constables have closed round their prisoner, and with drawn +revolvers they stand ready to resist interference. + +Not many of "the toffs" are armed, but such as are quickly draw their +weapons, and it only needs a single shot to start a fight which must end +disastrously for the Law, when Scarlett's voice rings out, "Stand back, +you fellows! For God's sake, don't fire! This thing is a mistake which +will be more quickly cleared up before a Magistrate than by bloodshed." + +Expostulating, but obedient to his wish, his friends one by one lower +their weapons. + +"_I_ know nothing of a mistake," says the Sergeant, as he takes a piece +of paper from his pocket. "But here's the warrant, which any gentleman +present is at liberty to see. We are but carrying out our duty." + +The handcuffs are now on Scarlett's wrists, and his captors lead him +slowly through the crowded room. + +"Let me speak." Filled with emotion which he can hardly suppress, Jack's +voice almost seems to choke him. "Let me speak before you take me away." + +"Not a word," retorts the Sergeant. "You shall say all you want to the +Magistrate." + +"Men," cries Scarlett, as he is hustled through the door, "I am +innocent, I swear." But he has no time to say more. He is hurried down +the steps; he is quickly placed on a spare horse; the constables spring +into their saddles, and ere the great concourse of diggers can grasp +what is happening, Jack is conducted at a trot through the town of +canvas, along the track which leads to Timber Town, and is soon out +of sight. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +The Goldsmith Comes to Town the Third Time. + + +The flash digger put his elbows on the table, and leered at Gentle Annie +who sat, radiant, at the other side of the board. + +"You must have made quite a pile." + +"My dear, it's never wise to tell a woman all you know or all you've +got. But I don't mind telling you this much: I had luck, or I wouldn't +be able to satisfy _your_ little whims." + +He put his hand into his breast pocket, and drew out a plush-covered +case. + +"You asked for the biggest diamond in Timber Town, and here it is." + +He opened the case, and took out a gold ring, in which was set a stone, +fully a carat-and-a-half in weight. Gentle Annie's eyes glittered almost +as brightly as the facets of the diamond. + +"Dear little jewels for our dear girls." The flash digger held up the +brilliant between his finger and thumb. "That bit of carbon cost me +L30." + +He passed the ring to the girl, who eagerly tried it, first on one +finger, then on another. + +"Lovely!" she exclaimed: then, as the sudden suspicion struck her, she +asked, "You're sure it's real?" + +"Well, I'll be----." But he restrained himself. "My dear, if it's +shnein, the bargain's off." + +Gentle Annie had risen, and was scratching with the stone the glass of a +picture-frame which held a gaudy chromo-lithograph. + +As she did so, the digger rose, and encircled her waist with his arm. + +"Well, are you satisfied?" + +"Quite," she replied, with a laugh. "It bites like a glazier's diamond." + +"Then give me a kiss." + +The girl made a pretence of trying to get away, but quickly gave in, and +turned her lips to the digger's hawk-like face, and kissed his cheek. + +"That's right," he said; "that's as it should be. Mind you: I'm boss +here while I stay; I'm the proprietor of the bloomin' show. All other +blokes must stop outside." + +His arm still encircled her waist, and she, regarding him through +half-closed, indulgent eyes, leaned her weight against him, when a low +cough startled both of them. + +The door slowly opened, and upon the threshold stood a dark figure +which, advancing towards the light, turned into a man, big, broad, and +stern. + +"No, no," said the flash digger, calm, cool, and collected, while the +girl tried to assume a posture of aloofness. "You must get out, mister. +I'm boss of this show. No one's allowed here without an invite from me. +So, out you go." + +But, to his astonishment, the intruder, without saying a word, quietly +took a seat, and began to cut himself a pipeful of tobacco from a black +plug which he drew nonchalantly from his pocket. + +"Make no mistake," said the flash digger, striking a dramatic attitude. +"I'm not the man to give an order a second time. Out you get, or I'll +drill a hole clean through you." + +"One minute." The stranger shut the blade of his knife, which he placed +deliberately in his pocket. "One minute. Do me the kindness to lower +that pistol, and stand where I can see your face more plainly. I've no +intention of resisting--unfortunately I left my shooting-iron behind." + +As the digger did not move, the stranger jerked his head now forward, +now back, now to this side, now to that, peering at the man who held his +life in his hand. + +"Yes, it's as I thought," he said. "I've had the pleasure of seeing you +before, on two or three occasions. There's no need for you an' me to +quarrel. If we're not exactly pals, we're something even closer." + +"You're wasting valuable time, and risking your life for no reason +whatever," said the digger. "You'd better be quick." + +"Oh, I'm going," said the intruder. "Set your mind at rest about that. I +was only trying to think where I had met you--it was in a cave. You and +your mates knew enough to come in out of the rain. You had made a nice +little haul, a very nice little haul." + +A look of the utmost perplexity came over the face of the flash digger, +and this was followed by a look of consternation. His arm had fallen to +his side, and he was saying slowly, "Who the deuce are _you_? How the +deuce d'you know where _I've_ been?" when the man who sat before him +suddenly pulled his hand from under the table and covered his aggressor +with a revolver. + +"One move," said Tresco--the reader will have recognised that the +goldsmith had come to town--"one move, Mr. Carnac, and you're as dead as +the murdered men on the hill." + +The tension on Gentle Annie's nerves, which during this scene had been +strung to the highest pitch, had now become too great to be borne +silently. + +"Don't, don't!" she cried. "For God's sake, for _my_ sake, stop! stop!" + +"Don't be frightened, my dear," said the goldsmith, without taking his +eye off his rival and antagonist. "If there's to be trouble between this +man and me, you can't make or mar it. Now, mister, kindly drop your +revolver on the floor." + +The man did as he was bid, and the heavy falling of iron sounded loud +through the otherwise silent room. + +"Right turn. Quick march." Tresco rose slowly, still covering his man. +"Open the door for him, my dear!" + +"It's a trap! I'm trapped by the woman," cried Carnac, glaring awfully +at Gentle Annie. "You slut, give me back my ring." + +"Walk straight out, mister," said the goldsmith, quietly, "and don't +call the lady names, or you'll repent it. She happens to be my +particular friend. And let me tell you before you go, that the one +thing that will save you from the hangman's noose is that you don't +set foot inside this door again. D'you hear?" + +"Yes," said the robber. + +"You understand my meaning?" + +"Perfectly." + +"Then let him out, Annie." + +The door swung open, Carnac walked slowly into the night, and Tresco and +Gentle Annie were alone. + +The goldsmith heaved a sigh of relief. "Haaaah! Close thing, very close; +but Benjamin was just one too many for him. You see, brains _will_ come +out on top. Kindly bolt the door, my dear." + +He picked up Carnac's revolver, placed it on the table, sat down, wiped +his brow, and again gave vent to another sigh of relief. + +"My dear, it's brought on my usual complaint--desperate thirst. Phaugh! +a low-lived man, and in this house, too! In the house of my little +woman, curse him!" + +Gentle Annie placed a glass and a bottle before him, and the goldsmith +drank. + +"What's that about a ring, my dear? Did I understand he had given you a +ring?" + +The girl took the precious diamond from her finger, and handed it to +Tresco. + +"Why, it's my own work--I recognise the setting; I remember the stone. +Thirty pounds that ring is worth; thirty pounds, if a penny. Did he +steal it, or buy it, I wonder?" + +"Bought it, he said." + +"If so, he's not mean, anyway. I tell you what I'll do--I'll buy it back +from you. It's not right you should be defiled by wearing such a man's +ring." + +"He shall have it back--I'll give it him." + +"No, my dear. What he has given, he has given. Thirty pounds." + +From his pocket he drew a small linen bag, from which he took eight or +ten small nuggets. These he balanced in his palm. + +"Seven ounces," he said, contemplatively. "Say eight, to give you good +value. That's it, my dear." With a bump he placed the gold on the table. +"This ring is now mine. The work is of the best; never did I take more +care or pride in my craft than when I set that stone. But it has been in +the hands of a vile fellow; it is polluted." + +He rose from his chair, placed the jewel on the hearthstone, and +fiercely ground the precious stone beneath his iron-shod heel, and flung +the crushed and distorted gold setting into the fire. + +"That you should have been so much as touched by such a man, is a thing +not to be forgotten quickly." + +He drank the rest of his liquor at a breath. + +"I must go, my dear. I must go." + +"What! won't you stop? I want you to stay a little longer." + +"Nothing would please me better. But that man is one of a gang. If I +stop here, he may bring seven other devils worse than himself, and the +last end of Benjamin will be worse than the first. I should be waylaid +and killed. And that would be unfortunate." + +"Do you suppose they will come here when you have gone?" + +"No fear of that, after what I've told him. That man will shun this +house as if it was his grave. Well, good night." + +He took Gentle Annie's face between his hands. Then he held her at arms' +length, and gazed steadfastly into her face. And, the next moment, he +was gone. + +The girl turned the nuggets over and over with a listless finger. "Men, +men," she murmured, "how madly jealous--and when there is so little +need. As if I care for one a pennyworth more than another." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +Bail. + + +The Pilot of Timber Town sat in his dining-room in the many-gabled +house; Captain Sartoris sat opposite him, and both looked as miserable +as men could possibly look. + +"It's a bad business, a terrible bad business," said Captain +Summerhayes, "to be charged with robbery and cold-blooded murder. I was +in the Court. I heard the Resident Magistrate commit him to the Supreme +Court. 'Your Worship,' says Jack, 'on what evidence do you commit me? I +own that I was on the road to Canvas Town, but there is nothing wrong in +that: there is no evidence against me.' An' no more there is. I stake +all I've got on his innocence; I stake my life on it." + +"Same here, same here, Summerhayes," said Sartoris. "But I don't see how +that helps him. I don't see it helps him worth tuppence. He's still in +the lock-up." + +"It helps 'im this much," said the old Pilot: "he can be bailed out, +can't he?--and we're the men to do it." + +"We'd need to be made o' money, man. Ten thousand pound wouldn't bail +'im." + +"We'll see, we'll see. Rosebud, my gal!" The Pilot's gruff voice +thundered through the house. "We'll put it to the test, Sartoris; we'll +put it to the test." + +Rose Summerhayes hurried from the kitchen; the sleeves of her blouse +tucked up, and her hands and arms covered with flour. + +"What is it, father?" + +"Young Scarlett's in prison," growled the Pilot, "and there he's likely +to stay till the sitting of the Supreme Court." + +The pink in Rose's pretty face turned as white as the flour she had been +kneading. "Have they found him guilty, father?" + +"Not exactly that, my gal, but it looks black for the lad, as black as +the pit." + +"But he's _not_ guilty!" cried the girl. "Nothing will persuade me to +believe that." + +"We must bail him out," said her father. "Bring me my deed-box." + +Rose rustled from the room, and presently returned with a square, +japanned, tin box, which bore her father's initials upon its lid. + +The Pilot took a bunch of keys from his pocket, and quickly unlocked the +box. + +Upon the bare, polished table he placed a number of Bank deposit +receipts. + +"I can't do it," he said; "no more can Sartoris. But _you_ can, my gal. +Just add up these amounts, Cap'n, while I explain." He handed the +receipts to Sartoris. + +"It isn't often I've mentioned your uncle to you, Rosebud. But he's a +rich man, more than ordinary rich, my dear. Ever since you were a little +dot, so high, he's sent me money as reg'lar as the clock. I've never +asked 'im for it, mind ye; and, what's more, I've never spent a penny of +it. I wouldn't touch it, because I don't bear him any love whatever. +Before you was born, my gal, he did me a most unforgivable wrong, an' +he thinks money will wipe it out. But it won't: no, no, it won't. +Howsomever, I banked all that money in your name, as it kept coming in; +and there it's been piling up, till I don't really know how much there +mayn't be. What's the total, Sartoris? Give us the total, man." + +But the Captain had forgotten his calculation, in open-mouthed +astonishment. + +"'Arf-a-minute, 'arf-a-minute," he said, quickly giving his attention to +the papers which lay before him. "Fifteen hundred and two thousand is +three thousand, five hundred; and thirteen hundred is four thousand, +eight hundred; and seven hundred and seventy-five is---- Why, there's +more money here than ever I saw in a skipper's house before. I'll need a +pencil and a bit o' paper, Miss Rose. There's a mint o' money--as much +as would bail out a duke." + +Supplied with stationery, he slowly made his calculation; the Pilot +watching him unconcernedly, and Rose checking the amounts one by one. + +At last he found his total, and drew a line under it. + +"Well, what is it?" asked the Pilot. + +"I make it ten thousand, seven hundred and seventy-five pound," he said. +"Goodness, girl, here's all this money!--and you baking and scrubbing as +if you was a servant. Summerhayes," he added, turning upon the Pilot, "I +think you've been doing an injustice, sir; a gross injustice." + +"Personally," replied the Pilot, "I don't intend to receive a pennyworth +o' benefit from that money. If the gal likes to be a lady now, there's +nothing to stop her; but I don't share in the spending o' that money, +not in a penny of it. Of that I'm determined." + +"You're a contumacious, cantankerous old barnacle," retorted Sartoris, +"that's what you are. It'd serve you right if your daughter was to cut +the painter and cast you adrift, and leave you to sink or swim." + +"We can very well settle that point by and by, Sartoris. The present +question is, Shall we bail out young Scarlett, or not? I put it to you, +Rosebud. Here's all this money--what are you going to do with it? If you +go bail for Scarlett and he runs away, you'll lose it. If he stands his +trial, then you'll get it all back and have the knowledge, I believe, +that you helped an innocent man. Which will you do?" + +"I couldn't hesitate," replied Rose. "I'm sure Mr. Scarlett wouldn't +commit such a dreadful crime as that he's charged with. I--I--feel," her +breath caught in her throat, and she gave vent to something very like a +sob, "I should be glad to do anything to get him out of prison." + +"Quite right, quite right!" thundered the old Pilot. "There speaks my +gal, Sartoris; there speaks my dar'ter, Rosebud!" Rising from his chair, +he kissed her heartily, and stood, regarding her with pride and +pleasure. + +"My dear young lady," said Sartoris, as he took Rose's hand in his, and +warmly pressed it, "it does you great honour. Young Mr. Scarlett an' me +was shipmates; we was wrecked together. I know that lad better than I +know my own brother--and, I say, you may safely back your opinion of him +to any amount." + +"Get my hat, gal," said the Pilot. "We'll be going." + +And so, after she had hastily performed her toilet, Rose walked into +town, with the two old sea-dogs as an escort. + +First, they went to the Kangaroo Bank, where the Pilot placed the sheaf +of deposit receipts on the manager's table, and said, "It comes to +something over ten thousand pound, sir. What we want to know is, will +you allow my dar'ter to draw five or ten thousand, and no questions +asked?" + +"Ah--really," said Mr. Tomkinson, "it would be most unusual. These +deposits are made for a term, and the rule of the bank is that they +can't be drawn against." + +"Then what is the good of all this money to my gal, if she can't use +it?" + +"She can draw it as it falls due." + +"But suppose that don't suit? Suppose my dar'ter wants it at once, what +then?" + +The manager rubbed his chin: that was his only reply. + +"These bits o' paper are supposed to be as good as gold," continued the +Pilot, rustling the receipts as they lay upon the table, "ain't they?" + +"Better," said the manager, "in some ways much better." + +"Indeed," retorted the Pilot. "Then what's the good o' them, if nothing +can be done with 'em?" + +"For the matter o' that, Summerhayes," said Sartoris, "if this gen'leman +don't quite like to trust himself in the matter, there's plenty outside +will take them there bits o' paper as security, and be glad to get 'em. +I've seen the thing done, Summerhayes, though I can't say I've done it +myself, never having had enough money to deposit in a bank." + +"Ah--well," said the banker, "of course it _can_ be managed, but you +would lose the interest." + +"The interests be--be--the interest be hanged!" exclaimed the Pilot. + +"But the young lady must act under no compulsion, sir." Mr. Tomkinson +spoke with a dignity worthy of the great institution which he +represented. "She must do it of her own free will." + +"Ask her," said the Pilot. + +The manager looked at Rose, who said, "I want to draw seven thousand +pounds of this money," but she felt as though she was speaking in a +dream, so unreal did the situation seem to her. + +"The best way for your daughter to act," said the manager, turning to +the Pilot, "will be for her to sign seven thousand pounds' worth of +these receipts over to the bank, and to open in her own name an account, +on which she can draw to the amount specified." + +"Very good," said the Pilot, "that would suit; but why couldn't you say +so at first, instead o' boxing the compass?" + +The business was soon concluded, and Rose, for the first time in her +life, drew a cheque, which was for nothing less than L7000. + +"This is a large sum," said the manager, "a large sum to take in a +lump." + +"Isn't it her own money she's taking?" said the Pilot. "I'm her father, +and I don't see anything wrong about it." + +"But there her credit ceases," said the manager. + +"Let it cease," said the Pilot. + +The cheque was cashed at the counter, and Rose walked out of the bank +with a mighty sheaf of notes in her hand. + +For safety's sake, the Pilot relieved her of some of her wealth, and +Captain Sartoris relieved her of the rest, and thus the three walked +briskly towards the Red Tape Office. Here, with difficulty and much +climbing up and down stairs and traversing of corridors, they found the +room of the District Judge, who was, in his minor capacity, likewise the +Resident Magistrate. + +He was a man of benign countenance, who, after the customary greetings +and explanations had been made, politely asked them to be seated. This +invitation the Pilot neglected to comply with, but, advancing to the +table behind which the Judge sat, he said, + +"I believe you have locked up a young man of the name of Scarlett." + +"That's so," said the Judge. + +"Well, he's a friend o' mine," said the Pilot, "a partic'lar friend." + +"Indeed," said the Judge, smiling kindly. "I'm glad that Mr. Scarlett is +not without friends." + +"I've a great respect for the Law," continued the Pilot. "I always had, +but that don't make me feel less anxious to help a friend o' mine that's +got into its clutches." + +The Judge continued to smile at the Pilot from behind his gold-rimmed +spectacles. "I can quite believe it," he said. + +"Cap'n Sartoris," said the Pilot, in his gruffest manner. "Stand up, +sir!" + +Sartoris stood. + +"Scarlett was your shipmate, Cap'n?" continued the Pilot. + +"Certainly he was," answered Sartoris. + +"And he was my very good friend, sir," added Summerhayes, turning to the +Judge. + +"So you have said," said the Judge. + +"Well, we've come to bail him out," said the Pilot; "that's what has +brought us here. How much will it take, Judge?" + +"A--really--this is very sudden," replied the Judge. "Er--this +is--ah--most unusual. In fact, I might say that this is quite an +unparalleled case." + +"We're plain, sea-faring men," said Sartoris, who felt he was bound to +back up the Pilot, and to say something; "law isn't our strong point." + +"Would you consider a matter o' five thousand pound might do it?" asked +the Pilot. + +The old Judge leaned over his table, and took up a book. + +"Bail?" he said. "Page 249. Listen to this. 'On charges of murder, it +is the uniform practice of Justices not to admit the person charged to +bail; although in point of law, they may have power to do so.' That is +from The Justice of the Peace--it seems perfectly plain." + +"You _may_ give bail, but you make a practice of refusing it," commented +the Pilot. "Might I suggest that you set an example to the other +Justices, an' come out strong in the matter o' bail? If you've got power +to make the lot of a well-known citizen a little happier, why not use +it? Hand over them notes, Sartoris." + +The Pilot emptied his pockets of all the money that Rose had handed him, +and placed it on the Judge's table, and Sartoris contributed his quota +to the pile. + +"There you are, Judge," said the Pilot, pushing all the money towards +the legal magnate, "that should be enough to bail out a Member of the +Legislative Council, or even the Governor himself. That should fix it. +But don't think, Judge, that me and Cap'n Sartoris is doing this thing. +No, sir, it's my dar'ter. She supplies the motive-power that works the +machinery. All this money belongs to her. She it is that wishes to bail +out this young man who, we believe, has been falsely accused." + +"Ah--really," said the good old Judge, "I must say--now listen to this: +I have here the newest edition." He took another and bulkier volume from +his table. "Page 66, section 176. Allow me to read. 'The exercise of +discretion with respect to taking of bail for the appearance of an +accused person, where such discretion exists--namely, in all crimes +except treason, being accessory after the fact to treason'----" + +"Yes," interrupted the Pilot, "that's the Law, an' very good it is, very +good to them as understands it; but what Sartoris, my dar'ter, and me +want is for you to let this young feller out of gaol till the trial, an' +we'll be responsible." + +A perplexed look came over the Judge's face. He took off his glasses, +and wiped them; readjusted them; gave a bewildered look at the Pilot, +and said, "Yes, yes; but listen to what I am reading. The first question +is whether bail ought to be taken at all; the second, what the amount +should be." + +"Place it high, Judge," said the Pilot. "We've come prepared for that. +We've come prepared with seven thousand." + +"Really, this is most irregular," complained the Judge, his +finger marking the place on the page from which he was reading. +"The--ah--object of bail, that is the amount of bail should be +sufficient to secure the appearance of the accused to answer the +charge." He had found his place, and read on determinedly, "'And it may +be remarked here, that it is not the practice in England, under any +circumstances, to take bail on charges of murder.'" + +"Jus' so, Judge," said the Pilot. "Jus' so. It's not the custom in +England. That's as I should ha' thought. But here, where murders don't +occur every day, you may grant it if you like. That's as I thought, just +as I thought. What's your opinion, Cap'n Sartoris?" + +"Same here," said Sartoris, tapping his chest. "I'm with you, Pilot; +with you on every point." + +"Theoretically, that is so," said the Judge, "but practically, how are +you going to assess bail for a man who is to be tried for his life? What +amount of money will guarantee his reappearance? Why, no sum, however +great." + +The Judge shut his book with a snap, and set his mouth firmly as one who +had made up his mind. + +"This young man," he continued, "whom I knew and respected as well as +you yourselves, has been accused of most serious crimes. He is said, +with the aid of other persons at present at large, to have murdered the +members of a gold-escort and to have stolen gold to the value of +something like twenty thousand pounds." + +The two seamen stood attentively, with their eyes fixed earnestly on the +Judge, whilst Rose covered her face with her hands. + +"Besides which,"--the Judge had now regained his judicial composure, +and his words flowed smoothly, as though he were on the bench--"we must +remember that the accused is reputed to be a wealthy man. Supposing him +to have augmented his means by murder and malpractice, what would ten, +twenty or even thirty thousand pounds be to him in comparison with +his life? That is the question. There can be no guarantee of his +reappearance. Bail is impossible. But I will do this: I will extend you +the privilege--seeing your affection for this man, who, for your sakes +as well as his own, I hope may be acquitted--I will allow you leave to +visit him on certain days, between the hours of 10 a.m. and 12 noon, and +I will write an order to that effect." + +He looked at Jack's sympathisers, who remained dumb. Dipping his pen in +the ink, he asked them their names in full, and wrote. + +Handing each of them an order, he said, "You will present those to the +gaoler when you desire to visit your friend. I may say that I very much +admire the strong affection which you have shown towards one who is +under such a serious charge as that made against the prisoner, John +Scarlett. I wish you good morning." + +So saying, he rose from his chair, and, when they had gathered up their +money, ushered them out of the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +In Durance Vile. + + +With a basket on her arm, Rose Summerhayes issued from the +creeper-covered verandah of the many-gabled house, and stood in her +garden of roses. + +It was the time of the autumn blooms. With a pair of garden scissors she +cut the choicest flowers, and placed them upon the snowy napkin which +covered the contents of her basket. Then she tripped into the town. + +She passed by Tresco's shop, where Jake Ruggles, worried by the +inquiries of the police, and overwhelmed with orders which he could not +execute, strove to act the absent goldsmith's part. At the door of The +Lucky Digger, where stood a noisy throng of men from the gold-field, she +heard the words, "It never was the work of one man. If he did it, +he had accomplices. How could one man lug the four of 'em up that +mountain-side," and she hurried past, knowing too well to whom the talk +referred. + +As she passed the Kangaroo Bank, a florid man, wearing a white +waistcoat, came out through the glass doors with a digger who had been +selling gold. + +"So you thought you'd bring your gold to town yourself?" said the florid +man. + +"After that, yes," replied the digger. "I sold the nugget to Zahn for +six-pound-ten, and, when next I see it, the Sergeant's got it. There +never was a clearer case. It's a good thing they've got 'im safe in +gaol." + +Rose hurried on, feeling that all the town, watching her with +unsympathetic eyes, knew well where she was going. But at last she stood +before the gate of the wooden prison. After ringing for admittance, she +was ushered into a room, bare of furniture save for a pine table and a +couple of chairs, where a warder read the Judge's order, made some +entries in a big book, and examined the contents of the basket. + +She was next conducted through a species of hall which opened into a +small, covered yard, on either side of which stood rows of white-washed, +wooden cells. + +Unlocking the second cell on the left-hand side, the warder said in a +loud voice, as though he were speaking to some one who was either a long +way off or very deaf, "Visitor to see you. Stand up, man. 'Tisn't every +day that a pris'ner has a young lady to see him." + +Rose entered the cell, and the door was closed behind her. The walls +were white and bare. On a small bench at the further end sat a figure +she saw but indistinctly until her eyes became accustomed to the dim +light which crept through the grating in the door, against which she +could observe the head of the watchful warder who stood inside the cell. + +Jack rose slowly to his feet, and stood speechless, with his hand +extended. + +"I've brought you a couple of fowls and some fruit," said Rose. + +"Thank you." Jack's voice was very low, and his words came very slowly. +"Do you know the crime I'm accused of?" + +"Please don't talk of that," said Rose. "I know all about it." + +"I wonder you come to see me. No one else does." + +"Perhaps they're not allowed to. But my father and Captain Sartoris will +be here presently." + +"Indeed! It's very kind of them." + +"But, you see, we don't believe you're guilty; we think you'll be able +to prove your innocence at the trial." + +Conversation goes but tamely when a prison warder dwells on every word. +The two stood in the centre of the cell, Jack holding tightly the girl's +right hand, while with her left she held the basket. Withdrawing her +hand from his ardent clasp, she placed the roses on the bench and +uncovered the dainties which the basket contained. There being no table +on which to place them, she spread the napkin on the bench, and laid the +delicacies upon it. + +"I am allowed to come every other day," she said, "and next time I hope +to bring my father with me. He's engaged to-day with a ship." + +"I never saw the men after they passed me on the track. I never did this +thing." + +Rose took his hand in hers, and gently pressed it. "If you don't wish to +hurt me, you will not speak about it. At home we agree to say nothing. +We hear all sorts of things, but we keep silent--it makes it hurt less." + +"You still have faith in me?" + +"Why not?" + +"Do others take that view?" + +"I hope so." + +"But I'm afraid the men on the diggings think hardly of me." + +"Why should they? They are all coming to town, I am told, in order to +attend the trial." + +"So much the greater will be my degradation, if I am found guilty." + +"On the other hand, so much greater will be your triumph, when you prove +your innocence." + +The conversation had got thus far, when voices were heard without, the +door of the cell opened, and the Pilot and Captain Sartoris entered. + +"Well, lad," exclaimed old Summerhayes, as he vigorously shook Jack's +hand. "Keeping her head well to the wind, eh? That's the style, lad. +You'll find she'll weather the storm." + +"Aye, aye," said Sartoris. "If she goes down with all hands it's not the +fault of the skipper, providing he's steered his true course." + +"That's so," said the Pilot; "providing he's steered his true course. We +were thinking o' bail, Jack. We thought to make you comfortable till +you'd proved they'd arrested the wrong man; but that old barnacle of a +Judge wouldn't budge an inch. He consulted his log, and neither +Sartoris, nor me, nor my dar'ter, could drive any sense into him. So we +gave it up: we intend to do our best to make you happy here." + +"Lord bless you," said Sartoris, "it won't seem no time at all +before you are out an' about. Then the whole affair will be but an +episode,"--he dwelt on the word, which he had been treasuring in his +mind for hours past--"simply an episode, only made to be forgotten." +This speech was a great effort of oratory, and the Captain drew a long +breath, looking sideways at the Pilot, as though he had given a cue. + +"Luck goes in streaks, lad," said Captain Summerhayes. "You struck a bad +one when you set sail with Sartoris here. I don't mean no offence to +you, Captain; but I do not, never did, and never shall, admire the way +you handled _The Mersey Witch_." + +"Go on," remarked Sartoris; "rub it in. I can bear it." + +"Having got into a bad streak, Jack, you must expect it to stick to you +for a time. I did think as how you'd lost it when you come home with all +that gold. But, you see, I was right at first; you're in it yet. There's +no cure but to bear it. An' that you will, lad, like the man you are." + +"We've come to cheer you up, Jack," said Sartoris, "an' I hope we've +done it. But there's one thing that I believe is usual in these cases, +an' that's a sky-pilot. I have heard as how a sky-pilot's more +comfortin' to a man in gaol than anything else. What's your special +brand? What kind do you fancy? I'm ashamed to say we've talked so little +religion, Jack, that I don't know what religious crew you signed on with +when you was young, but if there's any special breed o' parson you +fancy, you've only got to give him a name, and if he lives in this town +or within a radius of ten miles, he shall come an' minister to you +reg'lar, or I'll know the reason why." + +During this remarkable speech, Rose had quietly slipped out of the cell +and, with her empty basket on her arm, had turned her steps homeward. + +On rounding a corner of a street in the centre of the town, she almost +ran into Rachel Varnhagen. + +"Well, well, well, where have you been?" was the Jewess's greeting, as +she stopped to talk to Rose. + +"I've been to the gaol." + +"To the gaol! Goodness, what for?" + +Rose did not reply. + +"I do believe you've been to see that contemptible murderer." + +"If you mean a friend of mine, who was also a friend of yours who did +you a great service, I beg you to stop." + +"I mean that man Scarlett." + +"And so do I." + +"What! you've been speaking to _him_? You must be mad. The man's a +murderer. It's awful!" + +"You shouldn't judge him before he has been tried." + +"The evidence is the same now as it will be then. There was a nugget of +a strange shape, which a digger sold to poor Isaac Zahn, and it was +found on your precious Scarlett when he was arrested." + +Rose made no answer. + +"And to think," Rachel continued, "that I was almost engaged to him." + +"I never heard that," said Rose, coldly. + +"My dear, I'm thankful to say nobody did, but he used to come regularly +to our house when he was in town, and my stupid old father used to +encourage him. Such an escape I never had. Fancy being married to a +murderer. Ugh!" + +"There's no need to fancy anything of the sort. You couldn't have +married him till he asked you." + +"But, dear, if he _had_, I should have accepted him. You know, he is so +handsome. And he is awfully rich. My father wouldn't have heard of my +refusing him. Certainly, he's not of our religion, but then we're not +very orthodox. I'm afraid I should have accepted him: I'm sure I should. +And then, think of poor Isaac. I really _was_ fond of him. I know it +now; but he was _so_ slow in making money--I couldn't waste all my life +in waiting." + +"You must feel his death dreadfully," said Rose. + +"But it doesn't comfort me very much, when my friends go to see his +murderer." + +"I haven't been to see a murderer." + +"Good gracious! If that awful Scarlett didn't murder him, who did?" + +"I haven't the least idea, but I feel sure there's been a mistake on the +part of the police." + +"There's no mistake: they found the bodies yesterday in the bush." + +As Rachel spoke, the two girls saw a strange procession coming down the +street. + +"Look!" cried Rachel, seizing Rose's arm for support. "Look what is +coming." + +In single file, slowly the searchers were carrying the bodies of the +murdered men, wrapped in canvas and strapped to poles cut from the +forest trees. As they advanced, a crowd, bare-headed and at every step +increasing, accompanied the doleful procession. They passed the spot +where stood the two girls, the one supporting the other, and so +disappeared out of sight. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +Benjamin's Redemption. + + +The Supreme Court sat in the large hall of the wooden building, ornate +with all the decorations of the Elizabethan style, which has been +referred to in these pages as the Red Tape Office. + +The hall was divided by a barrier, on one side of which were arranged +the bench, dock, jury-box, and everything else appertaining to the +functions of Justice; and on the other side stood the general public. +But as yet the Court was not assembled, save for half-a-dozen be-wigged +barristers and a few policemen; and the public, crowded like cattle in a +pen, discussed in suppressed tones such matters as seemed good. + +Presently, a door beside the bench opened, and a very fat bailiff, +preceding the Judge himself, who was followed by many minions of the +law, advanced into the body of the court, and cried, "Silence for His +Honor the Queen's Judge!" struck the butt of his long staff upon the +floor, and proceeded to deliver a long rigmarole, couched in early +English, the tenor of which was that the proceedings about to take place +were most solemn and dignified, and all men must keep silence in order +that His Honour the Judge might hear himself speak. + +Then the Judge seated himself on the bench, nodded to all the +barristers, who thereupon immediately sat down likewise, and then the +policemen, looking fiercely at the harmless, herded public, cried in +angry tones for "Silence! Silence! Silence!" though not a man had so +much as coughed since the great Judge had entered. + +There seeming to be no fear of a demonstration against Law, Order, and +Justice, a be-wigged gentleman who sat immediately in front of the +Judge, in the manner that the clerk used to sit before the parson in the +days of the three-decker pulpit, stood up, and after consulting various +little bits of paper, called and empanelled the Grand Jury, a most +important body of men, comprising all that was substantial and wealthy +in Timber Town--short, fat men; tall, thin men; men of medium height; +bullet-headed men, long-headed men, bald-headed men, and one man who was +known to dye his hair; men whose stomachs rested on their knees as they +sat; men who looked as though they had not had a full meal for a month; +men dressed in tweeds; men dressed in black broad-cloth as if for a +funeral; men with gay flowers in the button-holes of their coats; +bearded men, and shorn men; as varied an assortment of men as could +pronounce opinion on any case. + +Each member of this queer company having been furnished with a little +testament, the legal luminary administered the oath, and they kissed the +book literally like one man, and sat down with a shuffling of feet that +was truly disgraceful in so sedate an assembly. + +They having chosen the fattest man of them all as their foreman, the +Judge addressed them: "Mr. Foreman and gentlemen of the Grand Jury," he +said, "give me your attention. Great crimes have been committed in your +district,"--and not a man of them all but dropped his eyes and looked as +if he felt himself guilty--"and great excitement has been caused in the +public mind. But it is one of the highest triumphs of civilisation that +we possess a wholesome system of procedure, whereby time is afforded +to elapse for the abatement of popular excitement,"--here he glanced +searchingly at the exemplary public on the other side of the barrier, as +though he challenged one of them to move--"before such cases as those +which will come before you, are heard." Here the Judge paused, and the +jurymen looked at each other, as much as to say that after all they +might escape. "But," continued His Honor, "we must take all proper +precautions in such grave affairs as we are here to consider, lest the +eye of reason should be jaundiced by prejudice, or become dazzled by +passion, or lest the arm of Justice should smite wildly and without +discrimination." Every juryman looked at the Judge, to see if the state +of his eye was clear and in keeping with this grave injunction. "The +first case which will come before you is that of John Richard Scarlett, +who is charged with the murder of Isaac Zahn and others. I am not sure +as to what will be the form of the indictment, but I should suppose +there will be four separate indictments, that is to say, the prisoner +will be charged with the murder of each man killed. I now ask you to +retire and consider this grave case with that perspicacity and unbiassed +judgment which I feel sure you are capable of exercising in so large a +degree." + +The Judge had made every juryman's breast swell with pride, and from +their box they poured in a long stream, and clattered over the floor of +the Court to the jury-room, the door of which stood ajar, ready to +receive them. + +The public portion of the hall was now crowded to excess, and the +gallery above the main entrance was quickly filling. The people +maintained perfect order, but on every face was an eager look which +showed the intense interest that was being taken in the proceedings. But +when the Judge retired, pending the decision of the Grand Jury, there +broke out a hum of conversation, subdued but incessant. On the public +side of the barrier there was nothing to be seen but a sea of faces, the +faces of all sorts of men, and of not a few women, all waiting for the +appearance of the prisoner. Suddenly at the back of this tightly-packed +throng there arose a slight commotion, caused by a wild, unkempt man +pushing his way through the doorway into the middle of the crowd. His +hair was long and matted, his clothes were torn and covered with clay, +his face was anxious yet determined. Having wedged himself into the +living mass, his identity soon became merged and lost in the multitude +of men, work-stained and way-worn like himself. For almost the entire +population of Canvas Town was assembled to hear the case against +Scarlett; the aristocratic members of the League had come to see what +fate awaited their president; solitary "hatters" had come to witness +the discomfiture of "the boss of the toffs"; the female portion of the +concourse had been attracted by the romance which was believed to +underlie the tragedy; while the townsmen were there out of sympathy with +the young banker whom they had all known. Filling all available space in +the hall and overflowing into the great quadrangle outside, this motley +crowd discussed the case against Scarlett in all its bearings, though +there was a dense ignorance on the part of the critics as to the +evidence that would be called. To everything he heard the wild, +unkempt man turned a deaf ear; regarding, as he undoubtedly did, the +self-appointed judges around him with silent contempt and some degree +of amusement. + +At length the door of the jury-room opened, and the head of a Grand +Juror was thrust out. To him a constable immediately whispered. The +Grand Jury had come to a decision, and the Judge was summoned from his +room. + +No sooner had the great man taken his seat, than amid a murmur of +excitement the prisoner was placed in the dock. He looked thin and +care-worn. On his legs were heavy irons, and handcuffs were upon his +wrists. Otherwise he was as when first arrested; he wore the same +riding-breeches and leggings, and the same tweed coat. + +Then the Grand Jury filed solemnly in, and stood in a big semicircle +between the barrier and the Court, the foreman standing a little in +front of his fellows. + +"Mr. Foreman and gentlemen of the Grand Jury, how do you find in the +case of John Richard Scarlett, charged with the murder of Isaac Zahn?" + +"A true bill, Your Honour," answered the foreman. + +"How do you find in the case of John Richard Scarlett, charged with the +murder of James Kettle?" + +"A true bill, Your Honour." + +A like answer was returned in respect to the other three charges, and +the Judge then discharged the Grand Jury, who promptly filed out of +Court, only to reappear in the gallery above the Judge's bench. + +A Special Jury--which, the Judge was careful to tell Jack, was a great +privilege extended to him by the Court--was empanelled to try the case, +but not without a great deal of challenging on the part of the Crown +Prosecutor and of Jack's counsel. + +"Prisoner at the bar, you are charged with the wilful murder of Isaac +Zahn. How do you plead, Guilty or Not Guilty?" + +"Not Guilty!" + +Scarlett's voice rang clear through the hall. + +There was a shuffling amongst the barristers on the floor of the Court; +papers were rustled, law-books were opened or placed neatly in rows, and +a general air of business pervaded the scene. + +Then the Crown Prosecutor rose and, after clearing his throat several +times, declared that he would call certain witnesses to prove that the +prisoner was on the road between Timber Town and Canvas Town on the day +of the murder, that he was at open variance with the murdered man, Isaac +Zahn, that he possessed when arrested certain property belonging to the +murdered man, and certain other important facts, all of which went to +prove the prisoner's guilt. + +First, he called a constable who deposed as to the finding of the +bodies; next, a doctor, who gave evidence as to how Zahn met his death. +Then followed a member of the search-committee, who supplied various +details respecting the track, the position of the body of Zahn when +found, and of the effects found upon it. + +These three witnesses but fulfilled the formalities of the Law in +proving that the dead man was murdered and robbed, but there was a great +stir in the hall when the next witness entered the box. + +This was a corn-stalk of a man who wore a long yellow beard, and +seemed to consist of legs, arms, and head; his body being of such small +importance in the scheme of his construction as to be hardly noticeable. + +"John Rutherford," said the Crown Prosecutor, "kindly tell the jury your +trade or calling." + +"Digger," answered the witness, as laconically as possible. + +"The witness means," said the barrister, turning to the jury, "that he +mines for gold," an explanation which nobody needed. "But be so good as +to inform the Court if you know a hostelry named The Lucky Digger." + +A smile stole over the lean witness's face. "I reckon I've bin there," +he said. + +"Were you there on the afternoon of Saturday, the 25th of February, +last?" + +"I might ha' bin." + +"You can't be certain?" + +"You've hit it, mister--I can't be certain." + +"Then we'll try to assist your memory. Do you know the prisoner at the +bar?" + +The witness looked at Scarlett with a grin. Then he turned, and +confronted the lawyer. "I know him," he said. "He was boss of the +gentlemen diggers." + +"Did you know the deceased, Isaac Zahn, with whose murder the prisoner +is charged?" + +"I did--he bought gold of me." + +"Did you ever know the two men, John Scarlett and Isaac Zahn, to +quarrel?" + +"I did." + +"Please be so good as to describe to the jury the nature of the +quarrel." + +"I was standin' in the bar of The Lucky Digger, havin' a pint with a +friend," said the long, thin witness, "when I heard the prisoner +exchangin' words with Zahn." + +"Ah! a very important matter," said the counsel for the Crown. "What was +the subject of their conversation?" + +"Seemed to me they were both sparkin' up to the bar-maid," said the +digger, "an' consequently there was bad blood between 'em, specially on +the part of Scarlett." + +"Did he strike the deceased?" + +"Certainly. Struck 'im in the bar, in the passage, an' kicked 'im into +the street." + +"You swear to that?" + +"Decidedly. I seen 'im do it." + +"Thank you. You may stand down--unless, of course, my friend the counsel +for the defence would like to ask a question." + +Scarlett's barrister, a man of jovial countenance, smiled, and shook his +head. + +"Call Rachel Varnhagen." + +The pretty Jewess, dressed in black, walked modestly into the Court, +mounted the step or two which led to the witness-box, and bowed to the +Judge and jury. + +"I should be pleased to spare you the pain of appearing as a witness in +this case," said the barrister for the Crown, looking his softest at the +lovely Rachel, "but the importance I attach to the evidence I believe +you will give, is so great that I am forced to sacrifice my private +feelings upon the altar of Justice. I believe you know the prisoner at +the bar?" + +"Yes, I do," replied Rachel, in a very low voice. + +"Did you know Isaac Zahn, with whose murder he is charged?" + +"I did." + +"Is it a fact that you were engaged in marriage to Isaac Zahn?" + +"I was, but the engagement was broken off some six weeks before his +death." + +"And that you afterwards became engaged to John Scarlett?" + +"I was never engaged to marry the prisoner." + +"Ah, then I have been misinformed. Were not the prisoner and the +deceased rivals for your hand?" + +"I believed them to be so." + +"Did you ever know them to quarrel?" + +"I once saw the prisoner throw Isaac Zahn out of a house." + +"What house?" + +"I was passing along the street, when through the door of a public-house +I saw the prisoner throw or kick Isaac Zahn into the street, and he fell +on the pavement at my feet." + +"Can you remember the name of the public-house?" + +"It was The Lucky Digger." + +The barrister sat down, and looked at the ceiling of the Court--he had +finished his examination--and the Judge motioned the fair Rachel to +stand down. + +The next witness to be sworn was Amiria. + +"Do you remember the 3rd of March last?" asked the Crown Prosecutor. + +The brown eyes of the Maori girl flashed, and, drawing herself up with +dignity, she said, "Of course, I do. Why should I forget it?" + +"What did you do on that day--where did you go?" + +"I went for a ride, though I can't see how that can interest you?" + +"Did you go alone?" + +"No." + +"Who accompanied you?" + +"Mr. Scarlett." + +"Indeed. Where did you ride to?" + +"In the direction of Canvas Town." + +"Well, well. This is most important. Did you accompany the prisoner all +the way?" + +"No. We parted at the last ford before you come to the mountains, and I +returned alone to Timber Town." + +"What time of day was that?" + +"Between nine and ten in the morning." + +"And which way did the prisoner take after leaving you?" + +"He crossed over the ford, and went towards Canvas Town." + +"Thank you." Then the counsel for the Crown turned to the Judge. "I have +finished with the witness, Your Honour," he said. + +"But I have not finished," cried Amiria, lifting her voice so that it +rang through the Court. "There were others on the road that day." + +"Ah!" said the Judge. "I understand you desire to make a statement?" + +"I desire to say that at the ford were four horrible-looking men." + +The Crown Prosecutor laughed. "Yes, yes," he said. "You would tell the +Court that there were others on the road besides yourself and the +prisoner. What were the names of the men to whom you refer?" + +"I don't know. How should I know their names?" + +Again the Crown Prosecutor laughed. But Scarlett's counsel was on his +feet in a moment. + +"Would you recognise them, if you saw them again?" he asked. + +"I think so," answered the Maori girl. + +"What should you say was their occupation?" + +"I don't know, but they looked much more like murderers than Mr. +Scarlett did." + +"Look if you can see the men you speak of, in Court." + +The dark girl glanced at the sea of faces on the further side of the +barrier. + +"They may be here, but I can't see them," she said. + +"Just so. But do you see any persons like them?" + +"In dress, yes. In face, no." + +"Very good, don't trouble yourself further. That will suffice." + +And Amiria was ushered from the Court. + +"Call William Tomkin Tomkinson." + +The Bank Manager stood trembling in the box, all the timidity of his +soul brought to the surface by the unusual situation in which he found +himself. + +"What quantity of gold do you suppose your agent, Mr. Zahn, was bringing +to town when he was thus foully murdered?" asked the Crown Prosecutor. + +"I really don't know the exact amount, but I should imagine it was +between L15,000 and L20,000." + +"You know the prisoner?" + +"I have met him in the way of business?" + +"What was the nature of his business?" + +"He came to ask the Bank to send an agent to the field for the purpose +of buying gold." + +"And you told him you would send one?" + +"I called Mr. Zahn into my room. I told him he would be sent to the +field, and I suggested that the prisoner should conduct him to Canvas +Town." + +"Was that suggestion acted upon?" + +"No. Scarlett was willing to comply, but Zahn refused his offer." + +"Why did he refuse?" + +"He was frightened to trust himself with the prisoner." + +"This is very important, Mr. Tomkinson. I must ask you to repeat the +murdered man's exact words when he refused to accompany the prisoner to +the field." + +"I do not recollect his exact words. As nearly as I can remember, he +said that he would rather run the risk of getting lost in the bush than +be thrown over a precipice." + +"Did you know they had quarrelled previously?" + +"I learnt so, at the time to which I refer." + +"Thank you, sir. Your evidence has proved to be valuable, very valuable +indeed. I shall ask the witness no more questions, Your Honour." + +Scarlett's counsel was contemplatively tapping his front teeth with his +forefinger throughout this examination. He now rose, and informed the +Judge that though he desired to ask the witness no questions at the +present time, perhaps he might ask for him and the witness Amiria to be +recalled at a later stage of the proceedings. + +The next witness was a digger, a short man with a bushy, red beard. But +even more extraordinary than the man's beard was his casual, almost +insolent, bearing. He glanced at the Judge contemptuously, he looked +pityingly at the jury, he regarded the barristers with dislike, and then +he settled himself resignedly against the front of the witness-box, and +fixed his eyes superciliously upon the Sergeant of Police. + +"Are you the owner of a claim on Bush Robin Creek?" + +"I am, and it's a good claim too." The witness evidently considered +himself on familiar terms with the counsel for the Crown. + +"Did you sell gold to Isaac Zahn?" + +"I did, an' he give me L3 15s. an ounce. The result of a month's work, +yer Honour." + +"How much did you sell?" + +"Forty-six ounces fifteen pennyweights; but, bless yer, I'd on'y begun +to scratch the top of the claim." + +The idea of the witness blessing the Crown Prosecutor convulsed the bar +with merriment; but, looking straight at the witness, the Judge said, "I +beg you to remember, sir, that you are in a Court of Law, and not in the +bar of a public-house." To which admonition the digger was understood, +by those nearest to him, to murmur, "I on'y wish I were." + +"Was there anything unusual in the appearance of the gold that you sold +to Zahn?" + +"It was very 'eavy gold," replied the witness, "an' there was one nugget +that 'e give me extry for, as a curio." + +"Indeed," said the counsel, as though this fact was quite new to him. +"What was it like?" + +"It weighed close on two ounces, an' was shaped like a kaka's head." + +"What is a _kaka_, my man, and what shape is it's head?" + +"I thought you'd ha' known--it's a parrot, mister." + +"Would you know the nugget, if you saw it again?" + +"'Course, I would," replied the witness with infinite contempt. "I got +eyes, ain't I, an' a mem'ry?" + +"Is that it?" The barrister handed a bit of gold to the witness. + +"That's the identical nugget," replied the witness: "you may make your +mind easy on that. I sold it to Zahn soon after he come to the field." + +"Thank you," said the Crown Prosecutor, and, turning to the jury, he +added, "That nugget, gentlemen, is an exhibit in the case, and is one of +the effects found on the prisoner at the bar, when he was searched after +his arrest." + +The witness left the box amid a murmur of excitement, and from the +gestures of the jurymen it was clear that his evidence had impressed +them. The case against Scarlett wore a serious aspect, and the Crown +Prosecutor, smiling, as though well pleased with his work, was preparing +to examine witnesses to prove the prisoner's arrival at Canvas Town on +the night of the murder, when there arose a considerable commotion +amongst the public, by reason of a wild, unshorn man pushing his way +violently towards the barrier. The Police Sergeant and his constables +cried, "Silence in the Court!" but amid noisy protestations from the +crowd, the ragged, struggling figure reached the barrier, vaulted over +it, and stood on the floor of the Court. The barristers rose to stare at +the extraordinary figure; the Judge, open-mouthed with astonishment, +glared at everybody generally; the Sergeant made three strides towards +the intruder, and seized him roughly by the arm. + +"I desire to give evidence!" cried the disturber of the proceedings. "I +wish to be sworn." + +With his clothes in tatters and earth-stained, his boots burst at the +seams and almost falling to pieces, his hair long and tangled, his beard +dirty and unkempt, thus, in a state of utter disreputableness, he +unflinchingly faced the Court; and the crowd, forgetful of the prisoner, +Judge, and jury, gave its whole attention to him. + +Beckoning with his hand, the Judge said, "Bring this man forward. Place +him where I can see him." + +The Police Sergeant led the would-be witness to the space between the +dock and the jury-box. + +"Now, my man," said the Judge, "I imagine that you wish to say +something. Do you wish to give evidence bearing on this case?" + +"I do, Your Honour." + +"Then let me warn you that if what you have to say should prove +frivolous or vexatious, you will be committed for disturbing the Court." + +"If what I have to say is irrelevant, I shall be willing to go to gaol." + +The Judge looked at this ragged man who used such long words, and said +sternly, "You had better be careful, sir, exceedingly careful. What is +your name?" + +"Benjamin Tresco." + +"Oh, indeed. Very good. T-r-e-s-c-o-e, I presume," remarked the Judge, +making a note of the name. + +"No, T-r-e-s-c-o." + +"No 'e'?" + +"No, Your Honour; no 'e'." + +"Benjamin Tresco, of what nature is the evidence you desire to give?" + +"It tends to the furtherance of Justice, Your Honour." + +"Does it bear on this case? Does it deal with the murder of Isaac Zahn?" + +"It does." + +"Would it be given on behalf of the Crown, or on behalf of the +prisoner?" + +"I can't say. It has no bearing on the prisoner, except indirectly. It +affects the Crown, perhaps--the Crown always desires to promote +Justice." + +"Let the man be sworn." + +So Benjamin was placed in the box, and stood prominent in his rags +before them all. After he had been sworn, there was a pause; neither the +prosecution, nor the defence, knowing quite what to make of him. + +At length the counsel for the Crown began, "Where were you on March the +3rd, the supposed day of the murder of Isaac Zahn?" + +"I don't keep a diary. Of late, I haven't taken much account of dates. +But if you refer to the date of the thunderstorm, I may state that I was +in my cave." + +"Indeed. In your cave? That is most interesting. May I ask where your +cave may be?" + +"In the mountains, not far from the track to Canvas Town." + +"Dear me, that's very novel. When you are at home, you live in a cave. +You must be a sort of hermit. Do you know the prisoner?" + +"Slightly." + +"Did you meet him in your cave?" + +"No; but there I saw the men who ought to be in the dock in his stead." + +"Eh? What? Do you understand what you are saying?" + +"Perfectly." + +"Perfectly? Indeed. Have you come here to give evidence for the Crown +against the prisoner at the bar?" + +"I have nothing to do with the prisoner. I have come to disclose the +guilty parties, who, so far as I am aware, never in their lives spoke +two words to the prisoner at the bar." + +"Your Honour," said the bewildered barrister, "I have nothing further to +ask the witness. I frankly own that I consider him hardly accountable +for what he says--his general appearance, his manner of life, his +inability to reckon time, all point to mental eccentricity, to mental +eccentricity in an acute form." + +But the counsel for the defence was on his feet. + +"My good sir," he said, addressing the witness, with an urbanity of tone +and manner that Benjamin in his palmiest days could not have surpassed, +"putting aside all worry about dates, or the case for the Crown, or the +prisoner at the bar, none of which need concern you in the slightest +degree, kindly tell the jury what occurred in your cave on the day of +the thunderstorm." + +"Four men entered, and from the place where I lay hid I overheard their +conversation. It referred to the murder of Isaac Zahn." + +"Exactly what I should have imagined. Did you know the four men? Who +were they? What were their names?" + +"I knew the names they went by, and I recognised their faces as those of +men I had met in Timber Town." + +"Tell the jury all that you heard them say and all that you saw them do +in the cave?" + +"I had returned from exploring a long passage in the limestone rock, +when I heard voices and saw a bright light in the main cave. For reasons +of my own, I did not desire to be discovered; therefore, I crept forward +till I lay on a sort of gallery which overlooked the scene. Four men +were grouped round a fire at which they were drying their clothes, and +by the light of the flames they divided a large quantity of gold which, +from their conversation, I learned they had stolen from men whom they +had murdered. They described the method of the murders; each man +boasting of the part he had played. They had stuck up a gold-escort, and +had killed four men, one of whom was a constable and another a banker." + +"That was how they described them?" + +"That is so. The two remaining murdered men they did not describe as to +profession or calling." + +"You say that you had previously met these fiends. What were their +names?" + +"They called each other by what appeared to be nicknames. One, the +leader, was Dolly; another Sweet William, or simply William; the third +was Carny, or Carnac; the fourth Garstang. But how far these were their +real names I am unable to say." + +"Where did you first meet them?" + +"In The Lucky Digger. I played for money with them, and lost +considerably." + +"When next did you meet them?" + +"Some weeks afterwards I saw two of them--the leader, known as Dolphin, +or Dolly, and the youngest member of the gang, named William." + +"Where was that?" + +"On the track to Bush Robin Creek. I had come out of the bush, and saw +them on the track. When I had hidden myself, they halted opposite me at +a certain rock which stands beside the track. From where I lay I +heard them planning some scheme, the nature of which I then scarcely +understood, but which must have been the sticking-up of the gold-escort. +I heard them discuss details which could have been connected with no +other undertaking." + +"Would you know them if you saw them again?" + +"Certainly." + +"Look round the Court, and see if they are present." + +Benjamin turned, and looked hard at the sea of faces on the further side +of the barrier. There were faces, many of which he knew well, but he saw +nothing of Dolphin's gang. + +"I see none of them here," he said, "but I recognise a man who could +bear me out in identifying them, as he was with me when I lost money to +them at cards." + +"I would ask you to point your friend out to me," said the Judge. "Do I +understand that he was with you in the cave?" + +"No, Your Honour; I knew him before I went there." + +"What is his name?" + +"On the diggings, he is Bill the Prospector, but his real name is +William Wurcott." + +"Call William Wurcott," said the Judge. + +William Wurcott was duly cried, and the pioneer of Bush Robin Creek +pushed his way to the barrier and stood before the Court in all his +hairiness and shabbiness. + +Tresco stood down, and the Prospector was placed in the box. After +being sworn according to ancient custom, Bill was asked all manner of +questions by counsel and the Judge, but no light whatever could he throw +on the murder of Isaac Zahn, though he deposed that if confronted with +the visitors to Tresco's cave, he would be able to identify them as +easily as he could his own mother. He further gave it as his opinion +that as the members of the gang, namely, Sweet William and his pals--he +distinctly used the words "pals" before the whole Court--had drugged him +and stolen his money, on the occasion to which Tresco had referred, they +were quite capable, he thought, of committing murder; and that since his +mate Tresco had seen them dividing stolen gold in his cave, on the day +of the thunderstorm, he fully believed that they, and not the prisoner +at the bar, were the real murderers. + +All of which left the minds of the jury in such a confused state with +regard to the indictment against the prisoner, that, without retiring, +they returned a verdict of Not Guilty, and Jack left the Court in the +company of Rose, the Pilot, and Captain Sartoris. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +The Way to Manage the Law. + + +It may have been that the Prospector's brief appearance in Court had +roused the public spirit latent in his hirsute breast, or it may have +been that his taciturnity had been cast aside in order that he might +assume his true position as a leader of men; however that may have been, +it is a fact that, on the morning after the trial, he was to be seen and +heard haranguing a crowd outside The Lucky Digger, and inciting his +hearers to commit a breach of the peace, to wit, the forcible liberation +of a prisoner charged with a serious crime. + +"An' what did 'e come for?--'e come to see his pal had fair play," Bill +was exclaiming, as he stood on the threshold of the inn and faced the +crowd of diggers in the street. "'E proved the whole boilin' of 'em, +Judge, law-sharks, police, an' bum-bailies, was a pack of fools. He made +a reg'lar holy show of 'em. An' what does 'e git?--Jahroh." + +Here the speaker was interrupted by cries, approving his ruling in the +matter. + +"He come to give Justice a show to git her voice 'eard, and what's 'e +find?--a prison." Bill paused here for effect, which followed +immediately in the form of deep and sepulchral groans. + +"Now I arsk you, ain't there plenty real criminals in this part o' the +world without freezin' on to the likes of _us_? But the Law's got a down +on diggers. What did the police know of this Dolphin gang? Nothing. +But they collared Mr. Scarlett, and was in a fair way to scrag 'im, if +Justice hadn't intervened. Who have you to thank for that?--a digger, my +mate Tresco. Yes, but the Law don't thank 'im, not it; it fastens on to +the very bloke that stopped it from hangin' the wrong man." + +Here there arose yells of derision, and one digger, more vociferous than +his fellows, was heard to exclaim, "That's right, ole man. Give 'em +goss!" + +The crowd now stretched across the broad street and blocked all traffic, +in spite of the exertions of a couple of policemen who were vainly +trying to disperse Bill's audience. + +"Now I want to know what you're goin' to do about it," continued the +Prospector. "All this shoutin' an' hoorayin' is very fine, but I don't +see how it helps my mate in the lock-up. I want to know what you're +goin' to _do_!" + +He paused for an answer, but there was none, because no one in the vast +assembly was prepared to reply. + +"Then," said the Prospector, "I'll tell you what. I want six men to go +down to the port for a ship's hawser, a thick 'un, a long 'un. I want +those men to bring that there hawser, and meet me in front of the Police +Station; an' we'll see if I can show you the way to manage the Law." + +The concourse surged wildly to and fro, as men pushed and elbowed their +way to the front. + +"Very good," said Bill, as he surveyed the volunteers with the eye of a +general; "you'll do fine. I want about ten chain o' rope, thick enough +and strong enough to hold a ship. Savee?" + +The men detailed for this special duty answered affirmatively, seized +upon the nearest "express," and, clambering upon it, they drove towards +the sea amidst the cheering of the crowd. + +The Prospector now despatched agents to beat up all the diggers in the +town, and then, accompanied by hundreds of hairy and excited men, he +made his way towards the lock-up, where the goldsmith, who had been +arrested immediately after Scarlett's trial, lay imprisoned. This place +of torment was a large, one-storied, wooden building which stood in a +by-street facing a green and grassy piece of land adjacent to the Red +Tape Office. + +By the time that Bill, followed by an ever increasing crowd, had reached +the "station," the men with the hawser arrived from the port. + +No sooner were the long lengths of heavy rope unloaded from the waggon, +then deft hands tied a bowline at one end of the hawser and quickly +passed it round the lock-up, which was thus securely noosed, and two or +three hundred diggers took hold of the slack of the rope. + +Then was the Prospector's opportunity to play his part in the little +drama which he had arranged for the edification of Timber Town. Watch in +hand, he stepped up to the door of the Police Station, where he was +immediately confronted by no less a person than the Sergeant himself. + +"'Day, mister," said Bill, but the policeman failed to acknowledge the +greeting. "You've got a mate of ours in here--a man of the name of +Tresco. It's the wish of these gentlemen that he be liberated. I give +you three minutes to decide." + +The infuriated Sergeant could hardly speak, so great was his anger. But +at last he ejaculated, "Be off! This is rioting. You're causing a breach +of the peace." + +"Very sorry, mister, but time's nearly up," was the only comment that +the Prospector made. + +"I arrest you. I shall lock you up!" + +Bill quickly stepped back, and cried to his men. "Take a strain!" The +hawser was pulled taut, till it ticked. "Heave!" The building creaked to +its foundations. + +Bill held up his hand, and the rope slackened. Turning to the Sergeant, +he said, "You see, mister, this old shanty of yours will go, or I must +have my mate. Which is it to be? It lies with you to say." + +But by way of answer the Sergeant rushed at him with a pair of +handcuffs. Half-a-dozen diggers intervened, and held the Law's +representative as if he had been a toy-terrier. + +The Prospector now gave all his attention to his work. "Take a strain!" +he cried. "Heave!" The wooden building creaked and cracked; down came a +chimney, rattling upon the iron roof. + +"Pull, boys!" shouted the Prospector. "Take the time from me." With arms +extended above his head, he swayed his body backwards and forwards +slowly, and shouted in time to his gesticulations, "Heave! Heave! Now +you've got her! Altogether, boys! Let her 'ave it! Heave!" + +The groaning building moved a foot or two forward, the windows cracked, +and another chimney came down with a crash. Bill held up his hand, and +the hawser slackened. + +"Now, mister," he said, addressing the helpless, struggling Sergeant, +"when's my mate a-comin'? Look sharp in saying the word, or your old +shed'll only be fit for firewood." + +At this point of the proceedings, a constable with an axe in his hand +issued from the tottering building; his intention being to cut the rope. +But he was immediately overpowered and disarmed. + +"That fixes it," said the Prospector. "Now, boys; take a strain--the +last one. Heave, all! Give 'er all you know. Altogether. Heave! There +she comes. Again. Heave!" + +There was a crashing and a smashing, the whole fabric lurched forward, +and was dragged half-way across the road. Bill held up his hand. + +"Now, Sergeant, have you had enough, or do you want the whole caboose +pulled across the paddock?" + +But the answer was given by a constable leading a battered, tattered, +figure from the wrecked building. + +It was Benjamin Tresco. + +Led by the Prospector, the great crowd of diggers roared three deafening +cheers; and then the two mates shook hands. + +That affecting greeting over, Benjamin held up his hand for silence. + +"Gentlemen, I thank you," he said. "This is the proudest day of my life. +It's worth while being put in limbo to be set free in this fashion. I +hardly know what I've done to deserve such a delicate attention, but I +take it as a token of good feeling, although you pretty near killed me +with your kindness. The Law is strong, but public opinion is stronger; +and when the two meet in conflict, the result is chaos for the Law." + +He pointed to the wrecked building, by way of proof; and the crowd +roared its approval. + +"But there's been a man worse man-handled than me," continued the +goldsmith, "a man as innocent as an unborn babe. I refer to Mr. +Scarlett, the boss of the Robin Creek diggings." + +The crowd shouted. + +"But he has regained his liberty." Benjamin's face shone like the +rising sun, as he said the words. "I call upon you to give three cheers +for Mr. Jack Scarlett." The response was deafening, and the roar of the +multitude was heard by the sailors on the ships which lay at the wharves +of Timber Town. + +From the mixed crowd on the side-path, where he had been standing with +Cathro and Mr. Crewe, Scarlett stepped forward to thank the man who by +his intervention had delivered him from obloquy and, possibly, from +death. Immediately the diggers marked the meeting, they rushed forward, +seized Scarlett, Tresco, and the Prospector; lifted them shoulder high, +and marched down the street, singing songs appropriate to the occasion. + +At the door of The Lucky Digger the procession stopped, and there the +heroes were almost forcibly refreshed; after which affecting ceremony +one body-guard of diggers conducted Scarlett to the Pilot's house, and +another escorted Bill and Ben to the goldsmith's shop. But whereas +Scarlett's friends left him at Captain Summerhayes' gate, the men who +accompanied Tresco formed themselves into a guard for the protection of +his person and the safety of his deliverer. + +When Scarlett walked into the Pilot's parlour, he found the old sailor +poring over a pile of letters and documents which had just arrived by +the mail from England. + +"Well, Pilot, good news, I hope," said Jack. + +"No," replied the gruff old seaman; "it's bad--and yet it's good. See +here, lad." He pushed a letter towards Jack, and fixed his eyes on the +young man's face. + +"I had better not read it," said Jack. "Let Miss Summerhayes do so." + +"I've no secrets from _you_, lad. There's nothing in it you shouldn't +know; but, no, no, 'tain't for my dar'ter's eyes. It's from my brother's +lawyers, to say he's dead." + +"What, dead?" + +"Yes, died last January. They say he had summat on his mind; they refer +me to this packet here--his journals." The Pilot took up two fat little +books, in which a diary had been kept in a clear, clerkly hand. "I've +been looking them through, and it's all as clear as if it had been +printed." + +Scarlett sat down, and looked at the old man earnestly. + +"I've told you," continued Summerhayes, "how I hated my brother: you've +heard me curse him many a time. Well, the reason's all set down in these +books. It worried him as he lay sickening for his death. To put it +short, it was this: He was rich--I was poor. I was married--he was +single. He had ships--I had none. So he gave me command of one of his +tea-clippers, and I handed over to his care all I held dear. But I +believed he proved unworthy of my trust. And so he did, but not as I +thought. Here in his diary he put down everything he did while I was on +that voyage; writing himself down blackguard, if ever a man did. But he +owns that however base was his wish, he was defeated in the fulfilment +of it. And here, as he was slowly dying, he puts down how he repents. He +was bad, he was grasping, he was unscrupulous, but he wasn't as bad +as he wished to be, and that's all you can say for him. I bury my +resentment with his body. He's dead, and my hatred's dead. To prove his +repentance he made his Will, of which this is a certified copy." + +The Pilot handed to Jack a lengthy legal document, which had a heavy red +seal attached to it, and continued, "To my dar'ter he leaves the bulk of +his money, an' to me his ships. There, that ends the whole matter." + +Jack read the deed while the Pilot smoked. + +"You're a rich man, Captain Summerhayes," said he, as he handed back the +document to its owner. + +"If I choose to take the gift," growled the Pilot. + +"Which you must, or else see an immense sum of money go into the maw of +Chancery." + +"Chancery be smothered! Ain't there my dar'ter Rose?" + +"Yes, but she couldn't take the ships except at your wish or at your +death." + +"Then she shall have 'em." + +"Nonsense, Pilot. You know now that your brother never wronged you +unpardonably. You own that in a large measure you misjudged him. Now +then, place your unfounded charge against his evil intention, and you +are quits. He tried to square himself by leaving you half his wealth, +and you will square yourself with him by accepting his gift. If you +don't do that, you will die a worse man than he." + +The Pilot was silent for some time, and drummed the table with his +fingers. + +"I don't like it," he complained. + +"You must take it. If you don't, you will drag before the public a +matter that must grieve your daughter." + +"All right, I'll take it; but I shall hold it in trust for my gal." + +"That is as you please." + +"But there's one good thing in it, Jack. Sartoris! Rosebud! Come here. +There's a gentleman wants to see you." + +Rose Summerhayes and the shipless Captain, when the Pilot opened his +mail, had retired to the kitchen, in order that the old man, who was +evidently upset by his news, might digest it quietly. They now +reappeared, looking half-scared lest the heavens had fallen on the +Pilot. + +They were astonished to see him radiant, and laughing with Jack. + +"Now, my gal and Captain Sartoris, sir, I've got a little matter to +clear up. I own there was a problem in them letters as almost bamfoozled +me. I confess it almost beat me. I own it got the better of me +considerably. But this young man, here--stand up, Jack, and don't look +as if you'd stolen the sugar out of the tea-caddy--this young man, my +dear, pulled me through. He put it to me as plain as if he'd bin a +lawyer an' a parson rolled into one. The difficulty's overcome: there's +nothing of it left: it don't exist." + +Sartoris' eyes opened wider and wider as he gazed in astonishment at the +Pilot, who continued, "Yes, Sartoris, you well may look, for I'm goin' +to tell you something you don't expect. You are to have another ship. I +have letters here as warrant me in saying that: you shall have command +of another ship, as soon as you land in England." + +"D'you mean to say your brother has forgiven the wreck of _The Witch_? +You must be dreaming, Summerhayes." + +"Probably I am. But as soon as you reach home, Sartoris, there's a ship +waitin' for you. That ends the matter." + +He turned abruptly to Scarlett. + +"There's something I have to say to you, young feller. My gal, here, +came to me, the night before last--when some one we know of was in a +very queer street--she came to me, all of a shake, all of a tremble, +unable to sleep; she came to me in the middle of the night--a thing +she'd never done since she was six years old--an' at first I thought it +was the hysterics, an' then I thought it was fever. But she spoke plain +enough, an' her touch was cool enough. An' then she began to tell +me"---- + +"Really, father," Rose exclaimed, her cheeks colouring like a peony, +"_do_ stop, or you'll drive me from the room." + +"Right, my dear: I say no more. But I ask you, sir," he continued, +turning to Scarlett. "I ask _you_ how you diagnose a case like that. +What treatment do you prescribe? What doctor's stuff do you give?" There +was a smile on the old man's face, and his eyes sparkled with merriment. +"I put it to you as a friend, I put it to you as a man who knows a +quantity o' gals. What's the matter with my dar'ter Rose?" + +For a moment, Jack looked disconcerted, but almost instantly a smile +overspread his face. + +"I expect it arose from a sudden outburst of affection for her father," +he said. + +But here Sartoris spoilt the effect by laughing. "I suspect the trouble +rose from a disturbed condition of the heart," said he, "a complaint not +infrequent in females." + +"An' what, Cap'n, would you suggest as a cure?" asked the Pilot; his +eyes twinkling, and his suppressed merriment working in him like the +subterranean rumbling of an earthquake. + +"Cast off the tow-rope, drop the pilot, and let her own skipper shape +her course"--this was the advice that Sartoris gave--"to my mind you've +been a-towin' of her too long." + +"But she's got no skipper," said Summerhayes, "an', dear, dear, she's a +craft with a deal too much top-hamper an' not near enough free-board to +please me, an' her freight's valued at over fifty thousand. Where's the +man, Sartoris, you'd guarantee would take her safely into port?" + +The two old sailors were now bubbling with laughter, and there were +frequent pauses between their words, that their mirth might not explode. + +"There was a time," said Sartoris, "there was a time when I'd ha' bin +game to take on the job meself." + +"What!" exclaimed Rose. "You? Why, you're old and shaky and decrepit." + +"Yes, I don't deny it--I'm a bit of a hulk, my dear," but Sartoris +laughed as he spoke. "I may have to pass in my cheques, any day. That's +why I stand aside; but I'll find you the man to take my place. Here 'e +is!" The grizzled old sailor seized Scarlett by the arm, and pushed him +towards the girl. "This is him. He's got his master's ticket all right; +an' though he's never had command of a ship, he's anxious to try his +hand. Pilot, my advice is, let 'im have her." + +"Thank 'e, Cap'n." Here the Pilot's laughter, too long suppressed, burst +forth with a terrific roar, in which Sartoris joined. "I mark what you +say, Cap'n. I take your advice." His words again halted to make way for +his Titanic laughter. "I believe it's about the best thing I can do." He +had now caught hold of Scarlett's hand. "Come here, my gal." Taking hold +of Rose's hand also, he said, "My dear, I built you--an' I pride myself +your lines are beautiful, though I've never told you so till now--I +launched you in life, an' now I put you in charge of the best skipper I +can lay hands on. Always answer your helm quick, take care you don't +fall away to lee-ward in making your course, an' I'll go bail he'll +treat you fair an' safely carry you into port." + +He put his daughter's hand into Jack's. + +"There," he said. "A long voyage an' a happy one. May you weather every +storm." And, walking to the window, the Pilot made pretence of looking +out on the roses in the garden, in order to hide the moisture which +clouded his eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + +Tresco Makes the Ring. + + +The goldsmith sat at his bench; his spectacles on his nose, his apron +round the place where his waist should have been, and in his hands +the implements of his craft. Nobody had told him, he had hardly told +himself, that it was for the last time that he was sitting within the +four boarded walls where he had spent so many hours during the last four +years, at the bench which bore on every square inch of its surface the +marks of his labour. But Tresco knew, as did also Jake Ruggles and the +Prospector who watched him, that the end of his labours had come. + +The goldsmith's thoughts were in keeping with his work: he was about to +make a wedding-ring, and his speech was of Love. + +First, he took a little ingot of pure gold, and, laying it on the smooth +surface of what looked like an upturned, handleless flat-iron, he +wrought upon the precious, yellow metal with a hammer, till it was +shaped like a badly-made rod. + +This he handed over to Jake, who put it on the wire "devil" and strove +with blow-pipe and flame to bring it to a red heat. + +"Woman," said Benjamin, "Woman is like a beautiful scene, or the perfume +of a delicate rose--every man loves her, be he prince or pauper, priest +or murderer. To labour for Woman is the sweetest work of Man--that's why +a goldsmith is in love with his craft. Think of all the pretty creatures +I have made happy with my taste and skill. While there are women there +must be goldsmiths, Jake!" + +"What?" asked the apprentice, taking his lips from the stem of the +blow-pipe, and looking at his master. + +"You're sure this is the correct size?" Tresco held an old-fashioned +ring between his forefinger and thumb, and tested with the point of a +burnisher the setting of the rubies in it. + +"Yes," replied the shock-headed youth. "I seen her take it orf her +finger, when the toff bought her engagement-ring. I was 'all there,' +don't you make no mistake. 'Leave this,' I said, looking at the rubies; +'the settin' is a bit shaky,' I says. 'Allow me to fix it,' I says. An' +there you are with a pattern. Savee?" + +Benjamin laughed. + +"Mind you make it real good," said the Prospector, who stood, watching +the operation. "Person'lly, I'd say put a good big diamond in the +centre." + +"'Twouldn't do," replied the goldsmith. "Unfortunately, Custom says +wedding-rings must be plain, so plain it must be." + +"Then let it be pure," said the Prospector. "Anyway it'll bring good +luck." + +He had divided his lucky nugget, the same that he had refused to sell +when he made the goldsmith's acquaintance and sold the first gold from +Bush Robin Creek, and while he had retained one half of this talisman, +out of the other half Tresco was fashioning a wedding-ring for Scarlett. + +The red-hot piece of gold had been cooled suddenly by being cast into +the "pickle," and was now subjected to another severe hammering, after +which it was drawn, by means of a gigantic pair of tongs fixed to the +windlass of a bench by a long leather strap through graduated holes in +a strong steel plate. Next, it was branded, by means of certain steel +punches, with the goldsmith's private marks, and afterwards it was bent +with pliers into a circle, and its clear-cut ends were soldered together +under the blow-pipe. + +Benjamin peered over the tops of his glasses at the Prospector. "I owe +you luck, fortune, and freedom," he said, "and yet, Bill, your power to +create happiness is distinctly limited." + +"I dessay," replied the Prospector. "But what'd you have me do? Would +you ask me to make you into a gold-plated angel with a pair o' patent +wings, twelve foot in the spread? It'd save me a deal o' trouble if you +could fly away from the police an' Timber Town." + +"I wasn't thinking of the police. I was thinking of adorable, elusive +Woman. I ought to be making my own wedding-ring: instead of that I must +roll my bluey and be footing it over the mountains before to-morrow +morning. I'm turned into a perfect Wandering Jew." + +"You should be darn glad I give you the opportunity." + +"I leave behind the loveliest fallen angel you ever set eyes on." + +"You'll find plenty more o' that sort where you're goin'." + +"Perhaps: but not one of 'em the prospective Mrs. T. Ah, well, all +through life my hopes of domestic bliss have invariably been blighted; +but the golden key of wealth will unlock the hardest woman's heart. When +I have leisure and freedom from worry, I'll see what can be done. In the +meanwhile, Jake, go and fetch some beer." He took a shilling from his +pocket, and gave it to the apprentice. "Make tracks," he said, "or my +sorrow will have fled before I've had time to drown it." + +Jake disappeared, as if shot from a cannon, and his master placed the +roughly-formed ring on a steel mandril. + +"But this," said the goldsmith, tapping the ring skilfully with a +diminutive hammer, "this is for the finger of an angel. Just think, +Bill, what it would be to be spliced to a creature so good that it'd be +like being chained to a scripture saint for the rest of your life." + +"I guess I'd be on the wallaby in a fortnight," said the Prospector. +"Personally, I prefer a flesh-and-blood angel, with a touch of the +devil in her. But at best marriage is on'y a lottery. A wife's like a +claim--she may prove rich, or she may turn out to be a duffer." + +The goldsmith was now working upon the ring with a file. Next, he rubbed +it with emery paper, and finished it with a burnisher. + +"Yes," said he, as he filled his pipe, and lighted it at the pilot-flame +of the gas-jet which stretched its long, movable arm over the bench, +"men, like flies, are of two kinds--those that fall into the soup, an' +those that don't. I have borne a charmed life: you have fallen into the +tureen. Here comes the beer!" + +There was a scuffling on the side-path, and Jake's voice was heard in +shrill altercation. Up to that point, Benjamin's body-guard had attended +rigidly to its self-imposed duty, but now, following close on the heels +of the apprentice, its members burst into the workshop. + +Shaking with laughter, Tresco addressed the thirsty influx. + +"I'm sorry, mates," he said, "but I can't see my way to make that quart +of beer into two gallons. But I give largess to my vassals--that, I +believe, is real, toff, Court dialect. Drink this." + +He took a crumpled one-pound bank-note from his pocket, and handed it to +the self-appointed captain of his guard, who immediately withdrew his +fire-eaters, and the goldsmith was left to complete his work in peace. + +"Here's health to the bride that's to wear it," said Benjamin, as he +raised his glass to his thirsty lips. + +"I'm not much at sentiment," said the Prospector, "but may she always +ring as true as the metal it's made of, for she's got a Man for a +husband." + +"May Luck go with them." + +To the Prospector the ring now seemed perfect, but the goldsmith +placed a jeweller's magnifier in his eye, and scrutinised the shining +marriage-token lest it might contain the slightest flaw. But his work +stood the test and, placing the ring in a dainty velvet case, he rose +and put on his hat. + +"That finishes my career as a goldsmith," he said. "I don't suppose I +shall sit at a bench again. To you, Bill, I owe my fortune, to you I owe +my liberty. No words of my misshapen tongue can express what I feel; but +you, mate, can guess it." + +The two men looked silently at each other, and solemnly shook hands. + +The Prospector might have said a great deal: he might have expatiated +in lurid language on his admiration of Tresco's self-sacrifice, but he +said nothing. He silently held the goldsmith's hand, till a tell-tale +moisture dimmed the craftsman's eyes, so that they could not see through +their spectacles. + +Pulling himself together with a sudden effort, Benjamin said firmly, if +a little loudly, "Is my swag packed, Jake?" + +"Bill done it himself," answered the apprentice. "I seen him do it when +he packed his own." + +"That's one more little kindness. Thanks, mate." Tresco placed the +ring-case in his pocket, and led the way to the kitchen. There the +"swags" lay on the table, and each man took his own and hitched it on +his shoulders. + +"Two such valuable swags," said the Prospector, "it's never been my +fortune to see. Twenty thousand couldn't buy 'em." + +With these words, he passed into the street; Tresco following. + +The body-guard of diggers closed round them, and escorted them to the +house of Pilot Summerhayes. + +Inside the garden-gate, the party of rough, ill-clad, warm-hearted men +paused, and one of their number went forward, and knocked at the front +door. Rose opened it. + +"We want to see Mr. Scarlett," said the digger. + +The girl vanished, and Jack, followed by the Pilot, appeared. + +"Hullo! hullo!" exclaimed the gruff old sailor, as he caught sight of +the gold-miners in the garden. "We're invaded, Jack: it's another +warrant. How now, my man; what have we been doing? Are there more +murderers to be lodged in gaol?--I thought they'd caught the lot." + +"There's four of 'em in quod, boss," replied the digger; "I guess that's +the whole gang, s'far's Tresco's evidence goes to prove." + +"Ah! there's the goldsmith himself," exclaimed the Pilot, pressing +through the throng in the garden. "How d'you do, sir? I have to thank +you, on behalf of my dar'ter and myself." He gripped the goldsmith's +hand, and almost wrung it off. + +"That's all right," said Tresco. "Yes, that's all right. I couldn't +stand by and see an innocent man murdered. Certainly not." Here he got +his hand free, and proffered it to Scarlett, who grasped it with a +warmth which quite equalled the Pilot's. + +"Tresco," said Jack, looking straight into the goldsmith's face, "you +have accumulated against me a debt I can never pay." + +"I don't know," replied the goldsmith, laughing; "I'm not so sure of +that. Sometimes Justice miscarries. How about that _kaka_ nugget? When +you've explained that, I shall feel I was justified in saving you from +the hand of the Law." + +Jack laughed too. "You dog! You know the facts as well as I do. +Moonlight took a fancy to the piece of gold and offered a good price, +which the Jew took. I bought it from my mate. That point is perfectly +clear. But I see you've got your swag on your back: your days in Timber +Town are numbered." + +"That's so," said Tresco. + +"I can only say this," continued Jack: "if ever you are in a tight +place, which God forbid, I hope I shall be near to help you out of it; +if I am not, wire to me--though I am at the end of the earth I will come +to your help." + +Tresco smiled. "Yes," he said, "you're going to be married--you look +on everything through coloured glasses: you are prepared to promise +anything. You are going to the altar. And that's why we've come here." +He had taken the little velvet case from his pocket. "As you'll be +wanting something in this line"--he opened the case and displayed the +wedding-ring--"I have made this out of a piece of Bush-Robin gold, and +on behalf of Bill and myself I present it to you with our best wishes +for a long and happy life." + +Jack took the gift, and drew a feigned sigh. He knew the meaning of such +a present from such givers. He looked at the ring: he looked at the +assembled diggers. + +"After this, I guess, I shall _have_ to get married," he said. "I don't +see any way out of it. Do you, Pilot?" + +"I reckon he's hooked, gen'lemen," replied the old sailor. "There's many +a smart man on the 'field'--I'm aware of that--but never a one so smart +but a woman won't sooner or later take him in her net. I give my dar'ter +credit for having landed the smartest of the whole crowd of you." + +"Well," said Jack, as he turned the glittering ring between his fingers, +"I've got to go through with it; but such tokens of sympathy as this +ring"--he placed it on the first joint of his forefinger, and held it up +that all might see--"will pull me through." + +"And when is the happy day?" asked Tresco. + +"The choice of that lies with the lady," replied Jack; "but as the Pilot +has just received news of his brother's death, I expect my freedom will +extend for a little while yet." + +"My mate and me'll be far away by then," said the Prospector, and he +looked at Benjamin as he spoke. "But you may bet we'll often think of +you and your wife, and wish you health an' happiness." + +"Hear, hear." The crowd was beginning to feel that the occasion was +assuming its proper aspect. + +"We hope," continued Bill, "that your wife will prove a valuable find, +as valuable a find as your claim at Robin Creek, an' that she'll pan out +rich in virtue an' all womanly qualities. H'm." The Prospector turned +for sympathy to his friends. "I think that's pretty fair, eh, mates?" +But they only grinned. So Bill addressed himself once more to the +subject in hand, though his ideas had run out with his last rhetorical +effort. "I don't think I can beat that," he said; "I think I'll leave +it at that. I hope she'll pan out rich in virtue, an' prove a valuable +claim. Me an' Tresco's got a long way to go before night. I hope you'll +excuse us if we start to make a git." He held out his hand to Jack, and +said, "Health an' prosperity to you an' the missis, mate. So-long." Then +he hitched up his swag, and walked down the gravelled path regardless of +Tresco or anyone else. + +The goldsmith tarried a moment or two. + +"It's hardly possible we shall meet again," he said. "If we don't, I +wish you a long good-bye. It is said that men value most those to whom +they have been of service; but whether that is so or not, I shall always +like to think of the days we spent together on Bush Robin Creek." + +"When this little bit of a breeze has blown over," said Jack, "I hope +you'll come back." + +"Not much." The reply was straight and unequivocal. "I may have +retrieved my character in the eyes of the people of Timber Town, but in +the eyes of the Law never, even if I satisfy its requirements in its +prescribed manner. I shall go to some other country and there live, +happy in the knowledge that I expiated my wrong-doing by saving my +innocent friend from the danger of death, at the price of my own +liberty. Good-bye." + +"Good-bye." + +Jack's hand clasped the craftsman's, each man took a long, straight look +at the other's kindly face, and then they parted. + +The body-guard closed round the goldsmith and the Prospector, and +escorted them through the Town to The Lucky Digger, where they saw their +charges fed and refreshed for the journey. Then they conducted them out +of the town to the top of the dividing range, and there bade them a long +adieu. + + + + +EPILOGUE. + + +When the play is over, it is customary for the curtain to be raised for +a few moments, that the audience may take a last look at the players; +and though the action of our piece is ended and the story is told, the +reader is asked to give a final glance at the stage, on which have been +acted the varied scenes of the tale of Timber Town. + +In the inner recess of Tresco's cave, where he had made his comfortless +bed, the dim light of a candle is burning. As its small flame lights up +the cold walls, stained black with the smoke of the goldsmith's dead +fire, a weeping woman is seen crouching on the damp floor. + +It is Gentle Annie. + +Between the sobs which rack her, she is speaking. + +"While he lived for weeks in this dripping hole, I lodged comfortably +and entertained murderers! Vile woman, defiled by hands stained with +blood! despised, loathed, shunned by every man, woman, or child that +knows me. Yet _he_ did not despise me, though I shall despise myself for +ever, and for ever, and for ever. And he is gone--the only one who could +have raised me to my better self." + +Rising from the ground, she takes the candle, and gropes her way out of +the cave into the pure light of the Sun. + +In a common Maori _whare_, built of _raupo_ leaves and rushes, sits a +dusky maiden, filled with bitterness and grief. Outside the low doorway, +stand Scarlett and his wife. + +Forbidden to enter, they beg the surly occupant to come out to them. But +the only answer is a sentence of Maori, growled from an angry mouth. + +"But, Amiria, we have ridden all the way from Timber Town to see you," +pleads the silvery voice of Rose Scarlett. + +"Then you can ride back to Timber Town. I didn't ask you to come." + +"Amiria," says Jack; his voice stern and hard, "if you insult my wife, +you insult me. Have not you and she been friends since you were +children?" + +Amiria emerges from her hut. On her head is a man's hat, and round her +body is wrapped a gaudy but dirty blanket. + +"Listen to what I say." The same well-moulded, dusky face is there, the +same upright bearing, the same musical voice, but the tone is hard, and +the look forbidding. "I learnt all the _Pakeha_ ways; I went to their +school; I can speak their tongue; I have learnt their _ritenga_: and I +say these _Pakeha_ things are good for the _Pakeha_, but for the Maori +they are bad. The white man is one, the Maori is one. Let the white man +keep to his customs, and let the Maori keep to his. Let the white marry +white, and let the brown marry brown. That is all. Take your wife with +you, and think of me no more. I am a Maori _wahine_, I have become a +woman of the tribe. My life is in the _pa_, yours is in the town. Now +go. I want to see you no more." So saying she disappears inside the hut. + +Scarlett draws himself to his full height, and stands, contemplating the +sea. Then his eye catches a fleck of white at his side; and he turns, to +see his wife drying the tears which cannot be restrained. + +He takes her by the hand, and leads her through the little crowd of +natives standing round. + +"Come away, little woman," he says; "we can do no good here. It's time +we got back to Timber Town." + +So mounting their horses, they ride away. + +It so happens that as they reach their journey's end, and pass the big +"emporium" of Varnhagen and Co., they catch sight of the gay figure of a +girl, dressed in fluttering muslin and bright ribbons, beside whom walks +a smart young man. + +"Wasn't that Miss Varnhagen?" asks Jack after they have passed by at a +trot. + +"Yes," replies Rose. + +"Who was the fellow with her?" + +"He's the new gold-clerk at the Kangaroo Bank. She's engaged to him." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tale of Timber Town, by Alfred Grace + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF TIMBER TOWN *** + +***** This file should be named 28906.txt or 28906.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/9/0/28906/ + +Produced by Nick Wall, Anne Storer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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